take me not
in mid-winter,
only to thaw the frost
of your old bones,
imagining how stallions rear
in the outback,
hooves raised to this august light,
 
kakaibang liwanag,
kasimputla’t kasinglamig
ng hubad na peras.¹
 
but take me
on a humid afternoon
made for siesta,
when my knees almost ache
from daydreaming of mangoes,
tree-ripe
and just right,
 
at higit sa lahat
mas matamis, makatas
kaysa sa unang halik ng mansanas.²

—————————

¹‘alien light,
as  pale and cold
as a naked pear’

plucked from my tongue you have wrapped
in a plastic bag with the $3 mango
from woolworths

while i conjured an orchard
from back home—mangoes gold and not for sale, and

²‘above all,
sweeter, more succulent
than the first  kiss of the apple.’