The Language of Mango

I learned the language of mango
and filed it within my cells,
so I would have a way to praise
the green skinned fruit when it appeared;
so I would have a way to embrace
the tearing down of its yellow meat.

I designed this mundane dust to cover my nerves
like Novocain to modulate the pleasure,
that intolerable energy flying through my bones;
to step down the frequency of wild aliveness,
to block the one wave length that matters:
the complete rush of just standing on the planet.

I devised you, with that lovely x chromosome,
so I could tell us apart
and I invented the euphoric shock of sex,
that slippery disturbance of the neurons,
so that your sweet skinned body and mine
could revive the experience of being one being.