I imagine sitting on a porch somewhere humid and calm, a tall tree, full of hand fruits, providing shade to foot traffic. In this imagining, the lemonade is almost too sweet but doesn't stick to the table when it dries, and the mesh lining of the patio denies mosquitos all entry. Their buzzing is drowned by the sound of ice being crushed three or four times with margarita mix and my favorite sin. Here, life has halted so dearly in a way I've always wanted, and in this, there is peace. My parents would have kept a container of peanuts nearby to have with their Pepsis for days like this-- days where sound and warmth and humidity mingle, and fanning yourself with an old church pamphlet was better than being bored, comfortable, and air-conditioned.
always thought a man was what i needed thought that there was reason why, after how hard I tried love kept declining, defying my expectations moving in and out of happy places but i found something watered my seeds, watched them grow into trees now i revel in the sweetness of its berries i dont need a man, i dont even think i want one art is my soulmate, time is no longer my weakness bite into life’s big peaches no need for men in my reach art is my soulmate, my vibe is Venus
arms outstretched, I reach for the stars I was always told to want only to find that I'm tracing myself against murky, illegal water in pink nectar. I'm too rough unexperienced nerves get the best and I dip down ever so slightly not bothering to take a breath. as I slip under the fruity grip the lake of liquid freedom clouds my vision. fear. a calm, calloused hand hardened from time from life from love cups my cheeks and breathes into me with her petal lips sticky against mine a reminder. I float back up before I get a good taste I twist and turn against the current hissing against the surface Solidago and Indian Mallow smeared across the sky reflecting against me until I'm nothing but the fuzz of a peach
Peaches /Tuesday/ Kingdom- Plantae Genus-Prunus Symbolism-softness, tenderness, but grounding in reality- foreboding my fantasy.
Used in prose: peaches, with her plumpness, with her skin pressed against mine, seperated only by my budding insecurity. When will you go, will I be fine? If you are a peach, dangling from a tree, and I am only, A flower or the leaves. When will you drop? When will you plummet and with it, I wither and decay. If only I were a willow tree, no ornament linked, or if you could be plucked early, before sour becomes sweet?
multiple weighty peach trees outlined grief's path lanceolate, broad, and pinnately veined leaves cornered my view of the clashing realities between faint rays and the celestial dome
my sweet cries and pleads set into the sky the atmospheric refraction distorts all that is left of her being an astronomical twilight will pass and the dusk will swallow her wavelength
wandering into a new medium surpassing the earth and as the sweet color of peaches decomposes becoming simple matter over time her sun has set and mine will follow shortly
i dislike the ending line
i've never experienced death, but it certainly feels like your world is ending. i wanted to convey death in a different way and I like sunsets and peaches so here we have this poem I do rather like it, but it's not perfect :)