Mangoes

1            Yellow mangoes are a sexual fruit.
               This I know, because like the body

   They get stuck between things

   Their intimate texture, demanding

   Physical trial, an interesting tango

   Of the teeth. I’ve tasted

   Its nectarous flesh and learned

   How to battle, learned how to bite and

   Cut hard because it is drudgery
               It is the nicking down of abundance

   Sweet heavenly fluid, filling

   Thirsty mouths with eternal things.

2.          Peel its peel.

3.          The tree of good and evil was similar to a mango tree -
              The dangling ornament with an easy reach

  Meeting our hands over a thorny wire gate.

  Bite and you will hack ominous knowledge.

  Beautiful death. Biblical segregation.

4.           I know two types of mangoes. Both born green.
              One turns yellow while the other evolves into a purple or red hue.

  One is brilliance, the other, a quiet palpitating heart.

5.           Purple-red mangolas are chosen for your fruit baskets.

               Their texture, soft and cool like that of papayas –

               A prayer to the intestines,

               A refreshment to the body’s dark corners.

6.            Be careful, yellow mangoes stain.

               They have no modesty.

               Only a tangy aftermath smeared on faulty lips.

               Purple-red mangolas are a peaceful treat-y.

               A dry kiss. A lover wrapped in sheets turned the proper way.

7.            A produce in which the seed is bigger than the fruit,

               Our mangoes will carry us into another year

               Preserving whatever is left of this Paradise.

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Ernestia Frazier is currently an artist-in-residence at the Writer’s Institute of Diversity in Los Angeles, CA, working on various writing projects, including a collection of poems entitled Shallow Water. Her poems have been published in print and online publications, including The Caribbean Writer and tongues of the ocean.