3 vignettes for a lychee fruit

[Myra]

I

‘Cold showers for me, Lychee nuts for you.’
This is his prescription for the heat
that lingers between our states.
... This heat lies heavy with me
there seems to be no escape. The sun
finds it way through the smallest cracks.
I try to imagines the water soothing him
hoping that this will help but it doesn’t
… I warm as he cools.


II


The grass is crisp,
… cut to short I guess.
It pricks the bottom of my feet
as I make my way to the old tree
to enjoy my fruit in the shade.

The Concubines Smile,
once horses raced across China
so that a she could peel back
the fruits rough skin and be greeted with
it’s flowery scent.

The sun seems to be making
its way through the leaves .
I choose the pinkest to open,
Its juice drizzles down my fingers.
I imagine horses,

hooves hitting dry ground,
armed soldiers racing with
bags of fruit for their mistresses
and her ladies in the garden.
She must have smiled as she heard
their approach knowing that soon
the lychee’s juice would trickle
down her fingers as well.


III

Fingertips explore the rough surface
searching for a place to tear
open the fruit. Pull
back its skin. Juice trickles down
my fingers, down your wrist
as you take the lychee. A flowery
fragrance draws you in and you press
your mouth to the flesh.

Cool … moist,

a sweet, earthy taste. You push
in to fill your mouth
with the fruits delight.
The Seed – dark, smooth
loosens and you remove it
with your tongue and lips.

I lean forward.
take the hand holding
the fruit into my own. Bow my head
to your palm and take the remainder
of the fruits flesh leaving it’s pink
exterior empty.