pitahaya

Yellow cousin of the dragon fruit,
a softer fire within your throat.
You are a thorny treasure chest,
a sweetness strikingly suppressed.

Your fruit is white with tiny seeds,
a crystal chain of raven beads.
An incandescent eagerness,
a flaming tongue to curse or bless.

Yellow friend of mine, oh cherished jewel,
tell me plainly if I'm a fool.
Give me a taste of your truthful nectar,
a key to the chest where I hide my temper.