Nectarine

Nectarine

He told me I was beautiful.
My skin so smooth and flawless.
Like a ripe nectarine.
He said he was captivated by
my essence.
My brown eyes seemed to reflect
all his hopes and dreams.
And when he stared effortlessly into them,
they reminded him of -
a deep...dark...sticky...
pile of mud.

Oh, wait. Maybe not.
He said some sh*t like that.
But I wasn't actually listening.
He had made me really hungry -
and I just wanted a nectarine.

Was feeling random....