Lemon Juice & Papaya
<Published in Hawai’i Pacific University’s Wanderlust October 2009>
Tall sticky grass whipped away at our skin.
We kept running through thickets knowing,
not thinking about what we wanted.
People shook their heads,
Nah beb no be shame, fuck um.
Ok you pull them off and I’ll catch.
We still just took what we needed, taught each other how
the green fruit sat under the window
everyday, almost ready,
tie-dyed orange and yellow. Then
slicing through pudding,
the tiny slippery dark seeds were
nestled like fish eggs.
Mouth watering, we took in
the pungent sweet scent.
A subtle juicy tartness, but you
liked yours with a little more zing,
lemon juice.
Ho beb you gotta try um l’ dis.
So I did,
still do.
When was the last time you had anything like that?
Waves are knocking on walls of rocks I cannot see
under my feet, and your laugh
vibrates my head, as your own
sun brown gold cheeks lift
around a cloud-white smile. Then all
I taste in my eyes,
throat, heart, tongue,
is salt.