Summer for Peaches

by Seth Amos

I like summer for peaches,
not for humid, breezeless days.
July 28, 2019, 11:10 a.m.,
Brooklyn, I ate one.
Eating a peach requires planning
or rogue carelessness.
I ate this one over the sink,
shirtless, waiting
for the coffee to percolate.
My teeth pierced its cropped fuzz
and perfumed flesh. Juice came
like a watering mouth, dripping
down my arm and plunking
into the empty sink basin.
I held the bitten fruit,
saw its pit peeking through pulp—
a prisoner for my mouth to set free.
I turned its slimy secrets
in my fingers before sucking
the stringy tethers clean.
Another waits in the bowl.
My fingers are sticky with this one,
while my mouth craves its favorite work.

To read “Blind Contour” by Seth Amos, buy The Canopy Review Issue 2 at the store.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s