My wife pulls a peach from the freezer,
then stares at the knives stuck
in their wooden block. I want the right line
for our marriage, but the exact emotion
is a peach packed in ice. I cannot accept this,
though clearly, here it is, cold
and ripe, and now, in hand, passed
between us like a desperate artifact.
Copyright © 2013 Kerry James Evans
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.