Today I find my heart wrapped around a girl
who is aching.
If she were near I'd cut up a cold mango for her, too
and we'd sit at the kitchen table
dreaming up the future
and accepting the present.
I just got that unintended pun: the present moment as a gift
but with a ceaseless flame at its center
that burns away the very things which surround it
as one gets closer and closer to
things like grief and loose bowels
sleepless nights and swollen eyes
ugly yet benevolent guides in the underworld:
"you're doing it right - keep going!",
they shout with bad breath and one tooth and a missing button eye...
I wish her everything she needs to understand
but just as much I wish her
cold mango in a mint green bowl
and girlfriends with winged hearts.