Mango Tree

mangotree
Here, I’m colored in cinnamon sticks
From head to toe
Drenched in the evening rays of the sun
Here, in the goose bumps of her red clay
I see the earth as she proudly flaunts herself
Puckering up to the shade of the mango tree
Lush, yet tolerant of the overt intrusion
Anticipating the immersion of seeds in her breast
I’m waiting to sow them one by one
Yes, right here
Under this curious canopy of purple clouds
Where the air is equidistant from each other
Sweetened with desire from the butterflies
Locking lips with petals and scattering yellow pollen
Sugarcoating the atmosphere with a natural buzz
Here, the mood feels perfectly suspended
Like the gardens of Babylon
And here, I’m ready to carry a pot with both arms
In an embrace
I’m willing to till the soil with bare hands
And finally find brown dirt waiting for me
Under my fingernails

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