Defenseless

Mangoes hang heavy in opulence from your tree in the backyard
The bright spectrum of color dancing slowly across your face
In shadow,
You lip read phrases slipping from my lips into these hands
Creating rivers, running forth from between the creases of fingers
Till they bury in the soles.
I reach forth and grasp the large fruit in my palm,
Feeling its ample flesh molding against mine,
The essence of it barefaced and pregnant in the ocean breeze
I can feel its being, breathing deeply beneath the folds of its abundance
While barren I stand before you
Hoping to find answers in formlessness,
Praying you distinguish my form
In the array of those around me,
Longing you to try all which I bequeath.