Eating Pears

I remember the day we ate the pear, perched
On the logs by the waters edge. Feet swinging
Over the velvet moss, bewildered flowers watching us.

The blade sliced through the soft flesh in my hands,
Shaping the soft curves into slick lines. I let it rest in my fingers,
Loving its soft coolness in my palm.

On your lips, the dew seemed golden. I raised my fingers to your
Mouth, slid the soft flesh between your teeth. One drop of juice
Rested on your lips. I brushed it away with my thumb.

Is that moment love? Or was it something else?
Are all thoughts lost in that time, as we loose everything.
For one moment that touch was everything, but then the pear
Lay forgotten in the grass, as we ran bare-footed home.