Untitled - July 21, 2002

The summer heat burns
in a slow blaze
against the ripe flesh
of peach gold.

As the rum soaks into
hardened surfaces,
everything takes on
a different haze --
sweetened by time
and tempered by heat.

It is a slow burn
that gradually melts away
everything between
the top
and the hidden core,
until all that's left
is the red center
rigid to the touch.

Every bite sends a cascade
of juices
dripping down all sides,
eyes playfully watching
as the explosion of taste
overwhelms everything else.

Sharp nibbles
combined with a steady suction
yields fruity flesh
in a wild combination.

The last bites
end with a low hum
of happiness,
where the flush of red
has faded to pale peach.