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