Layered Fragments, Becoming Whole

Hidden in the white plump flesh 
Of mangosteen 
Some part of our tender innocence sleeps 
Cocooned, 
Protected, 
From vulgar hands
Sealed off in dense papier-mâché maroon 
Skin 
A faint warning - hinting of poison 
Harmless
Like the soft green light of Gatsby’s dock 
Whether they break through with precision or urgent force
You still lay bare 
Until nothing remain 
But seeds -Homeless
remnants only in sticky fingers washed
And a fleeting memory of sweet floral nectar trailing 
on gluttonous mouths…
Eager

to take 

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