Papaya

A piece of flame red papaya inside my mouth,

Goes wobble wobbly slush,

Droplets of heaven,

Peeled and referigerated

Squishy blast of a sweet wonder,

And I am a child again,

I love to sit by the bed and go,

Gobbly gobble it up,

One by one until there’s but one on my plate.

That one is going straight to my face,

For a bright glow that lights me up from miles behind,

And I become the fog dispelling machine.

How funny will that be?

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