Spirit, grow like flamboyán, a blaze
blooming red. Everything red.
Black and brown, mancha
de plátano – I can’t see it now.
Come back to me, Isla,
that I might taste you in the gradation
flesh of a mango. Flicker in the mauve
moon freckled water. Call to me
in the salted blue mouth, call
in the swinging
creaks of coquí on the tree bark.
Rise from your green ripple
mountains. Raise me.
Image Credits: jseliger2
