i love a peach.
peaches:
to have a gardenful
of
perfect
delicious peaches.
their papery skin
whispers a juicy secret to my mouth.
an offering.
But I shop for them--
I hate that.
here they are
piled carelessly under fluorescent lights
just wilting.
and bruised,
all of them,
so fragile.
I'll find one
a beautiful orangeyellow
one...
not perfect.
but juicy.
sweet imperfection
let it
d r i p
down
my
chin.
