Peach Fuzz

ripe peach
The skin is fuzzy
And noticeably soft to the touch
Where the purple dot begins to stretch
Tiny little spores invading the warm flesh
How can they resist?
When the center glistens invitingly
Overflowing with Mother Nature’s sweetened pulp
But don’t worry, my darling
I can cut around the rot
And salvage what’s left of this harvest
It’s not too late
We can still feast on all that is ripe and juicy
And safely return those inedible parts
Back into the marvelous earth
I can’t save you, my darling
Anymore than I can save myself
Or this delicious peach fuzz
We can’t get back everything that was lost
In the silent decay of our dysfunction
But, we can cut around the rot
Even if it’s tender to the touch
And salvage what’s left of our harvest
If it’s not too late

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