There is a blossoming on my cheeks,
A flush of sunset in my hair
My hands melting into everything I lay my fingers on
Caressing magic in between palms,
All whilst lush trees growing bountiful fruit embrace me,
A delight for the tongue,
Sweetening the burns that have calloused my gums,
Rich cream and milk coat the insides of my throat,
Like that when cavilling in the moonlight ,
There is spices fluttering in the air,
A rush of people bustling between kitchen corner and garden,
The oven is hot , baking goods inside,
Everything becomes obliterated ,
Scorched ,
Months of hell,
Churned into goodness
Only leaves skin on surface,
Tasteful, cooked slowly , tender,
Leaves the insides rich,
Pink , like a vulva
The surface untouched,
Something is cooking in my flesh,
I am moulding magic between my eyes,
A vista of creation steamed into pots,
The ceramics of potential lives decorating my mind,
A playground of ideas, plans , dreams.
Mangoes milking into me ,
Their yellow sweetness , like honey ,
Amalgamating into my blood,
Surfacing as melanin that drips like honey dew
I am formulating juice ,
Ready to drink from the altar of the earth
My worship is green