Waiting For The Sun To Go Down

Perched on the table,
Topless,
Having the time of my life.
I stare into the sun,
As color battles with my eyesight.

Bending over the plate of mangoes,
Staring into the orange, juicy pulp,
It drips down the corner of my mouth,
As I try to slurp it back up.

I squeeze the mango in one hand,
As my teeth sink into it.
I wipe my mouth on the back of the other,
And stare at the sun again.
Wishing it would go down.
So I could have another mango.