She’s a Mang-ging-go!

She’s a Mang-ging-go!...

Candied skin you could eat...

It’s an orangey red green

if you know what I mean,

fruit that hangs off this vine,

through the jungle I’d climb

to recover the bird

who has broke from her flock...

...When I see her shell-shock

rolls in waves through

and through!...

Wild flavours ensue

every inch of my spine,

and I can’t look away

as I’m held in her sway

by the spirits that flicker...

There’s a scent rises up

from those feathers she shakes...

...I am here with my cup

Begging out by her lake

’til she senses desire,

and draws in inch by inch...

...On and off, lightening bugs

keep me glued to her flood

of enormous delight

as I pray through dark night

for another encounter

roundish lanterns descend

from big sky where I’ve hung them

as my tribute that lends

my great praise to her heaven...

Lanky Goddess up high!...

I will always adore you!...

You must never be shy,

though I love how you’re humble...

Roping throats up in knots...

Tightly tapped to your splendor...

Whether breathing or not,

I am gaping, eyes dialed...

And I can’t look away...

You’ve a presence self styled

that so many have paid

through the nose to reflect,

though they don’t stand a chance...

She’s my speckled Mang-ging-go!...

...and I’m cleaved by her lance.

©

2/12/20

Bunny Villaire

(Edit #3)