Peaches

Do you remember that summer? 

How we bought a box of peaches

At the farm stand a half hour

Out of town because

We needed tender fruit.

Do you remember

How we mostly stood over your

Kitchen sink ravishing peaches

Before they browned and bruised,

Agonizing over every thick drop 

Of peach sweetness, linted

Like your chest. How I watched

Near naked, as you carefully 

Twisted grooved pits out of fruit

To cut careful crescents into

Uniform oblong cubes

To be sugared

To be tossed

To be slipped into toasted crust

To be baked to bubbling

And aromatic.

To ask: do you remember

Is offensive to

desire – I know. 

How then

You managed to play,

How you slurped up 

my lips as peach juice 

ran across

Everything.

​

Are we still sticky?

​

Althea Seloover, 2020