Author’s Note: This poem comes with mature themes, and I will be tapping into my loverboy side. I ended up writing this piece around 2 AM one night in Summer 2023, after enjoying a particularly sweet and delicious mango.
They ask, in between shudders and staggered breathes
“How’d you get so good at this?”
I smile softly, trying to appear humble
“I guess I just have natural talent”
They don’t know that this talent took
a lifetime to master.
I hate to be a cliched diaspora writer
But the way I bite into the sweet flesh of a ripened mango;
Letting its juice drip down my forearm, and I don’t let a single drop go to waste.
My cultural, familial, and genetic predisposition
To having a refined palate
Has made me a better lover in bed
To explore and map with my hands, nose, and fingers
every nook and cranny with utmost curiosity
To sear into the folds of my brain every touch
and the way your breath hitches in response.
Transferable skills, am I right?
