Peach

I am no peach
To be plucked from the
Wing of a tree
Ripened and ready
To be consumed by thee

Though I've fed you love respectively sweet
I plague the back of your tongue with instinctual grief

Though I've fed you love respectively sweet
I plague the back of your tongue with instinctual grief

Though I've fed you love respectively sweet
I plague the back of your tongue with instinctual grief

Though I've fed you love respectively sweet
I plague the back of your tongue with instinctual grief