The Cure for Anything

“You’ve ruined peaches for me.

I can’t eat one without thinking of your hands
dipping into my soft flesh, mouth dripping,
teeth skimming across skin, tongue lapping
at the excess:

greedy, greedy, greedy.

I am all rush and blush at a summer picnic lunch,
hands shaking at the farmer’s market.”

-Trista Mateer

I love this piece of art, Efêmero,  by Juliano Lopes. It’s almost as it’s unfinished, but the detail is striking.  Just look at the vein that runs along the biceps brachii of the subject’s right arm.  My eye is drawn to that every time I look at it.  I love coming across artwork that speaks to me.

Today I am thinking of summer, so I chose this poem.  I’ve always loved peaches, but not that junk that comes in a car or you buy at most stores.  Fresh, juicy peaches, right off the tree.  When I was a girl, I would go peach picking with my grandparents.  Because I was the smallest and the lightest, I would shimmy up the trees and get the best peaches that no one else could reach.  As I picked, I’d stop to eat a peach that I deemed as perfect, juice running down my skinny little wrists and I savored each bite.  Pure, unadulterated bliss.  I try to keep simple joys like that in my life today.  Give me blue skies, a picnic basket (with ripe peaches and a cold bottle of Sancerre), a  blanket, and my bare feet in the grass, and I’m near to heaven.  I may even blush a little bit as I eat the peach.