Tight, taut skin. Peach toned, rose hued - with a hint of yellow.
Sweet aroma, firm feel,
broken open to reveal juicy soft flesh.
Juices navigating the crevices of my fingers, undulating, lightly rolling like water down a stream.
In the center, a rock-hard pit. Pebble. Tiny, but disrupting the flow of my euphoria.
One becomes two. Two plump cheeks separated by this pit.
I pursue my tasting. I chew, slowly, wholly. Relishing the moment.
The flavor is profound. Distinctively itself.
I smile. I look down at the palm of my hand; a small pool of juice has accumulated in the middle.
Only the pit remains.
I lick my lips. The last taste before it evaporates and all I’ll have is memory. An image, a feeling.
I swallow.
Small but sweet.
A cherry.