RACHEL BARDUHN

Mango of my eye

You are the mango of my eye.
I say mango instead of apple
because you taste of a home to which I’ve never been;
the island entangled in me rooted steady and strong.
My spirit can’t settle in this land of evergreens 
and nights spent by an open fire. 
It lives with you and the ocean tide;
your sun-kissed skin and hips swaying to love songs, 
my own brown eyed girl with melanin to match.

You are the mango of my eye.
I say mango instead of apple
because of your warmth, 
more full than island sun 
and your body, 
the gentle give under my fingertips
while your sturdy pit of heart remains. 
The tooth of your enemy can never harm you.
They don’t know your softness is your strength.

You are the mango of my eye.
I say mango instead of apple
because apple is such an ordinary flavour 
and even though there are thousands upon thousands of mangoes
across many islands on this tiny planet,
I need only one, 
so much sweetness I have to myself.


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