Mango

My mango
Plucked and stolen from my tree
Refuses rot,
Remaining ever ripe
Without her feeding soil.

Already
I regret
And remember
Knowing anger
At the theft.
I feel what is my heart
And what is not.

My world one day will spoil,
Fallen fruit corrupted,
Mold.
My life will cease.

The hurt is fleeting,
But the hollow loss
Still grows,
Increasing.

Moral:

Considering endings
Develops certain clarity
About your needs
And deep desires,

Your love.

- 6/23/25

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