Pulotu wings
Sun rays down
no one could predict
the colours of that sunset
blushing pink papaya
sliced into perfect
watermelon halves
travelling
from the underworld
upwards to the sacred south
strength of Hercules
fleeting wings beating
impossible orange on beautiful black
six nights
by candlelight
a monarch is buried
an insomniac dreams
a black butterfly
midnight flight
mouthfuls of mango skin
shoulders lipped
oystered tongue
dark pearl seeds strung
on ripe peach flesh
she touches the iridescent misshapen teeth
each flawed pearl tear drop
carries a story more enchanting
than anonymous orbed white
choker
of clean slate cream
fallen marbles from a child’s hand
papaya seeds scattered at her throat
she flies back to the underworld
black wings, pearl strings, bent, beautiful
for at the heart of this passionfruit
lies a cavern
of gleaming dark tears
an oyster child is curled in her lap
goodness sleeping in the pale
milk of his glowing skin
