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Mango Tree

Author: expiring_touch
ASL Info:    30/f/Hamburg
Elite Ratio:    3.93 - 139 /258 /171
Words: 229
Class/Type: Poetry /Misc
Total Views: 1567
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 1581


Mango Tree

Today I ate a mango and thought
of your mum, how she peeled it
and cut it for me, so very
I never could tell
if she liked me enough, all her
stories put on repeat
that I heard. I hope,
she’s ok. I will write
till this - those- these
their incessant drizzle
caught up with me.
I am off my feet. I will write
till this repeated hurt

I know I’m not allowed to miss you,
It’s hardly fair, you know.

I wish the walls of my room
turn inside-out and let
the monsoon rains overturn me,
wash out the stains, fill the throbbing
vessel, large and small, begotten
when starlight filtered through
the wetted roses in Barcelona,
after an afternoon
of giddy love-making,
and you fell sick.

Maybe I did too, and never
admitted it, changing cities,
jumping continents,
running away and towards you.

I will go back to Hamburg and find you there,
as if we’d never left:
First you,
then me, empty-roomed and with a sawn jaw,
and angry anguish I’d use to stab your vocation
and sever
our held hands.

Learning that it is too late is too painful
that’s why it doesn't feel
very different from when I dropped
my hot and desperate tears
on your bed
without stopping.

Submitted on 2013-11-18 11:44:45     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  I commented on this yesterday. Something went amiss. I said I loved it and FAVed it. Remembrances of lost love, makes one want to say, "We'll always have Hamburg or Barcelona."

In particular recalling "wetted roses" and an anger "to stab your vocation" causing "desperate tears" to drop. Yes, I loved it. Again it's a FAV of mine.

| Posted on 2013-11-21 00:00:00 | by phil askew | [ Reply to This ]

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