raw fruit

white lye
relaxes the napped, locked curls and
the vital roots detangle and languish.
anguished, the gods wail as the sun-children
forsake their regalia and scorch ebony temples.
vowed beauty and power, united tongues
are forked and native language is loosed.
tongue-tied, sun-children twist tongues, foreign,
and plead with moon-hearted gods, dining on strange fruits, pending on knotted branches.
time buffets the patient fruit, swaying as though a pendulum,
until at last the fruit plummets,
overripe.
but the fertile soil accepts the seed-bearing husks,
sweetened by age and passion, producing
bitter progeny.
rawer than its progenitor and hardened
with multiple layers of a blacker peel,
the abject descendant alienates the moon-hearted gods.
the once regal sun-children however attempt the acrid product,
black ambrosia, ruminating the hybrid taste
and draining forth the sanguine nectar,
thus coming into knowledge
of divine sustenance.