Meditation

Would you like to split a mango
‍ ‍with me? It’s election

night. His laptop displays a map
of America, greyed out,

waiting for the future. He portions
each half as he recites

a story of where he found it,
how amazed he was to find

this perfect fruit. The sweetness
takes the edge off our nerves

while a bottle of white loosens
my laughter. Caught

in an act of easy intimacy, we
spoon-feed the dark

blush-pink presents grown
in a battleground state.

The first polls are closing soon.
It’s almost time to lock in,

compare analysts and formulas
until our country decides

on a new leader, but we keep our bowls
a little bit longer, scrape

what’s left to hang onto right now,
the inhale before the dive.