Cousin of the peach

Quite unlike the fuzziness

Velvety smoothness, firm and succulent

And the flesh!

A yellow festering and humid sun!

The nectar of secrecy

Gifted by Mother Nature to my mouth!

I’m panic buying my nectarines

Recession beckons and

I must sink my central incisors into my nectarines

The initial dive into my dearest

Is enough, to wish all other senses away

But the senses are reeling

From her exposure of fleshy juices

A taste of perfection, taints my tongue

The voice calls from within

The cage of curvaceous orb

I will pull her from the temporary dwelling

And acquaint her to my teeth

She will live a life or dormancy

Until a revolution of aftertaste arises