Despertar 1
By Tamara Madison

Pale orange
like the harvest moon,
shaped like flat hearts.
A note on the market
stall reports
that the spots on their skin
are from hail
and purely superficial.
I think of you
and the spots you left
on my heart and hope
they, too, are purely
superficial.
I would like my heart
to be pale orange like this
sturdy and only
a little sweet
like these little Japanese
fruits: crunchy,
hardy, loving the juice
of sunset but never
softening enough
to evoke pity, able
to withstand the assault
of your hail with only
the barest, most
superficial wounds.

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