Written by James Finlay
Art by Lucy Keatch
If there were ever a food
That enjoyed being eaten
My bet would be on the peach
Not segments in a can
Brightly packaged
Swimming in artificial syrup
And preservatives
To be slurped down in a moment
At your convenience
No
I mean
An honest to God
Peach
One you picked out yourself
Ideally picked yourself
From a tree in a friend’s backyard
Placing your hand delicately on her body
A moment before
She falls willingly into your embrace
Saying “Yes, my love,
I will.”
Before you start
You must consider that
At every moment
With a peach
You are eating the entire thing
No segments
like oranges or mandarins
No neat pieces you can pull away
Like apples of bananas
No popping the whole thing in your mouth
Like a grape or a strawberry
No, with a peach
Every bit of flesh must be torn
And every piece must be given care
At all times
Whether held in the hand
Or mouth
You may dive right in
If you’re determined
To make a passionate mess
But if you would rather savour
Every moment the peach can give you
You must first break it apart
To do so you must find the seam
Caressing the soft
pliable flesh with your fingertips
To find the sweet spot
Where it will yield
And then gently,
Never be too rough
Lest you destroy her,
Sink your fingers in
And open
Let her break open as she will
There may not be two neat halves
Like an apricot who is so eager to please
And be swallowed in two small halves
You must get to know her as she breaks
And learn where she is still firm
And where she is bruised
And you must work with these things
Rather than ripping through all flesh equally
But do not think
That she has no power
You may be the devourer
But the peach will run
down your chin
Down your arms
And make you look foolish
As you struggle to contain her
And there is no neat little ending
Her little morsels cling
To the deep little hollows of the pit
On which you may suck
Or pull out with your teeth
That is
Unless
the peach has gotten the better of you
And the pit may be too much sweet pleasure
And you may wonder
If it was as sweet for her as it was for you
And her taste will remain on your fingers
For the rest of the day
Saying
“Yes,
My love,
It surely was.”
For that is the lasting joy
That is all yours to savour
When you make love to a peach
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