The Rite of High Summer

Summer Peaches

A supplicant stands at the kitchen basin.

Hands cradle warm, fragrant fruit.

Fingers skim velveteen surface.

Knife slips between skin and flesh,

flashes silver edges. On the longitude,

she inserts the blade. Parts the mesocarp.

Reveals a gnarled seed.

With a flick, the pit tumbles. Leaves a rosy

depression into which her thumb slides.

White teeth bite into yellow flesh. Stored sunshine

melts on her tongue. Rivulets of moisture trickle

arms, baptize chin and seal her to the moment.

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