u/Ok-Amphibian9104

When I was young, we went home.
Home home.
We decended into a valley that my mother moved about in pattern. Affectionatly named The Gut: mango covers the floor, sun breaks through proud island limbs. Sweet citrus drawn in every breath.
By days’ end, my white shirt had turned orange, and i’m hidden by sunset as we travel red dirt into town in the bed of my fathers’ truck. This same sun I’d felt for thirteen years, now more known to me than ever.
I am too young to question this familiarity; I am too full too care.
The saccharine aroma and pulp cover the surface of my skin to this day.

She is a sun that I’ve known always and only just felt.
I peel and consume past my fill, pull at the viscid strands of her pit for every drop.
Bury the core of her in my soil; I pray to the ground for harvest.
She sits on my skin to this day.
I’m no longer too young to question this familiarity,
but I am too full to care.
She is in-season fruit, red roads back home.
Home home.

for Habiba
June 28th 2023 

hope you’re well.