Eating Nectarines

Sugar runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is nothing sweeter than this.
I have been eating nectarines.

My fiancé does not believe what he sees.
His eyes are wide
and he walks with his hands in his pockets.

The nectarines are gone.
The wine bottles are empty.
The guests are standing by the door and coming in.

Their eyes search,
their legs shake like branches.
Our poor friends begin to stamp their feet and weep.

They do not understand.
He gets on his knees and begins to lick my hand,
I scream.

I am a new woman.
I purr at them and meow.
I carry the pitcher to them, dripping with joy.

Inspired by: Eating Poetry by Mark Strand

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