Peach Perfection

Peach Perfection

 

 

Teeth pierce flesh made

warm in the summer sky.

Succulent flesh fills the mouth,

dribbles of sticky sweet sunshine

glide down the chin.

 

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The funniest part about the above poem– I wrote it before I knew that my son was allergic to peaches. It was on a blustery, winter day and I wanted that moment of summer perfection back.

Wyn

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