Preserves

Quietly,
I stow away memories,
like ripe mangoes,
for later consumption.
I dissect them,
into manageable-bite size pieces.
And soak them
in a tangy, sweet-sour preserve,
in air-tight containers,
so they remain untainted
by the vagaries of time
and oxygen.
I push the jar
into a dark corner
Just for nights like this one,
Where my mind,
carefully drags the jar out,
For my wine-soaked tongue
to bite into a soft, juicy piece.