Daisy Behagg reads her poem Peach - shortlisted for the 2012 Edwin Morgan Poetry Prize - at the Edinburgh International Book Festival 18 August 2012.
by Daisy Behagg
Sunbathing on the lawn, you watch
the way the ants crawling up your empty water glass
around the white-fogged patch
of your fingerprint. You remember earlier,
taking a white peach from the bowl,
thinking slicing would be tidier, in front of him.
Mostly out of laziness — the sun,
the new ease between you and him —
you bit into it whole.
Juice ran from your lips and chin
to stain your dress, pieces of flesh
staying behind in your teeth.
You wonder if the ants are eating tiny molecules of peach,
or what ese from your day could've been left behind.
The tiniest flakes of you, maybe.
Do ants eat human skin?
You remember how last night, over you,
he raised his hand - the strange shock you felt
when he put his fingers in your mouth,
watching, wanting you to taste yourself.