Each time I unveil a mango
Hold in my hand
its beautiful skin, exposed,
Deep yellow under the marred peel,
I remember to reel in its softness
and praise its curves
where the the pulp curls
into a slight shade of orange.
Then one last time
I give my eyes
The voyage of the whole
Before I rip it apart, digging
In the hunger for more.
I wasn't taught this callousness in the home I was born
It reminds me of the men I coveted shelters from
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