the peach

you find
a peach in
your hand.
firm
and fuzzy,
yellowed
just right
in the sunlight
with a broken
stem
at the top
of it's curve.
it's soft
in your hand,
yet solid.
your mind
has already
told your lips
and mouth,
your tongue
what to expect.
which leaves
you with only
one thing left
to do.
and how
is this not
how i feel
about you.