White Fleshed Peaches

White Fleshed Peaches

There are a few on the table
next to a note telling me not to eat them
They're destined for a cobbler we'll take to your mother's this weekend.
Gazing at them, round and beautiful in a puddle of yellow sunlight
I think this is how Eve must have felt, seeing the Tree of Knowledge.
Its heavy, plump fruit swinging in the morning sun.
How she must have picked one without intending to eat it at first.
Marveling at its weight, turning it over between her hands. And then--
bringing it up to her nose and smelling its heady fragrance.
Brushing it lightly with her tongue and tasting the barest hint of its nectar.
She too, finally raised the fruit to her lips and bit into it.
Felt the juices run over her lips and tongue. She, too,
ate until it was gone and then sucked the stone for the last of its sweetness,
finally running to find her beloved and kiss him with sticky lips.
Reveling in the sweetness of this small sin.