Peach

If this peach that I cut
Had a voice,
Would it scream?

Would the scream sound like a cry,
Or more like a woman screaming
That I just heard?

…Or maybe that was nothing more than a passing car beeping.

What would it say, this peach,
I wonder,
This peach that I so carefully cut?

“Why do people hurt whom they love?”
- It would ask.

I would say that people are cars,
Machines that don’t ever get hurt,
Machines that don’t cry,
They just crush
And beep in despair..

What if this peach could move,
Would it run?

Or would it turn towards me
And punch?
Or would it plunge this knife
Deep into my heart?

Indeed, it would be curious to see
A human machine getting hurt.