They say beneath the peel
Within the tangy pulp
Of an unripened and unmatured mango
Are abundant reservoirs of starch
Broken down by enzymes
Churning sugar after sugar
Until she metamorphoses from pallid flesh
To a rosy and ripened medulla…..
Bearing a body of a thousand pleasures
Each woven with the thread of bliss
Is there anything as beautiful…….
As a perennial woman, surfacing through
The mantle of age?