-7.8.

My parents, Dieter and Gail, have a peach and it never ages.

It is really unreal with the fruit’s marble body gently blushed and bruised with pigment, and in its navel nestles the clincher: a real wooden stem… here lies a peach.

When I first touch it I am touched by it, am taken by its ability to convince me and then convince me otherwise.

Here stands something that is and is not, it agrees and disagrees.

This peach, this thing holds a moment when the idea of Truth is questioned.

I am unmistaken and mistaken, I believe and unbelieve.                                            (2012-02-07)