Soft and gentle and yet to be bruised,
like a ripening peach.
She is not weak, but she is vulnerable.
The allure of the peaches they cannot escape-
the creatures that come
They sense it and quietly, slowly, they come,
Creeping they come to invade the cold canvas
empty and open,
defences are down.
They feed as they please and they take what they can
‘This is how we found it
and so, it is ours.’
Nakedness alludes permission
Like clouds of smoke
filling a void
Coming in with the breeze, smoke invades
any space it can
Nakedness alludes permission and so, they come;
the thoughts, the feet,
A staged invasion behind a curtain of eyelids
gaze shifted away.
The peach will rot,
infected by an invisible disease:
‘if we cannot see it, it is not there’
Blind eyes leave her helpless.
Peaches, BM- 16/02/18