The Nature of Things: The Plight of the Peach (edit)

 
imprints of a grasp linger  
haunting the sallows          
in the withering husk            
of a once succulent,          
savored indulgence
 
its ghostly tendrils      
cement the regrettable,    
but inevitable      
transgressions          
of a bulimic past          
         
seeping inadequacies-            
fermenting nostalgia-            
pitted desperation-          
         
naked, wounded          
unfinished and cast aside          
left to perish in the            
unabsolving sunlight          
         
spoilt-      
like much rotted fruit