this is gentle fondness 

you cannot imagine. 

something like 

the first fuzzy peach 

you ever held.

remember ..?

the fibers held 

your tongue 

before your teeth 

left their impression, 

molded down 

onto soft 


.. only pit 

and memory 

stayed behind. 
– sheila c.


of course, 

the things we know are fleeting.

I’ve always understood that much.

and while inside I’ve held my breath, 

I’ve never lacked the oxygen to connect.

“I’ve skirted worse”

I assure myself-

I’ve lifted more from deeper lurches.

I know with every peach there is a pit

and in them,

lie our dormant curses. 

– sc