Peaches

[PrinceMyshkin]

Lying in another bed, my lover
dreams of rough-skinned peaches,
plentiful and free.

Around the base of the tree
a ring of children run,
taunting her. Years later

she will lie in anyone's arms,
peach juice down her chin, and wonder
if they were part of that gang.






J. Newman Sudden Proclamations copyright 1992

[TheFifthElement]

Mmmmm peaches! I love the sluttish implications of the peach juice running down the chin. Excellent poem.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Mmmmm peaches! I love the sluttish implications of the peach juice running down the chin. Excellent poem.

How happy you made me by picking up on the "sluttish implications" of the peach juice! But having read your Spice story now, I see that it is no accident that you are sensitive to details that count.