Losing Your Breasts
29 April 2008
Vol. 8, No. 1
poetry
When you look up the other breast is gone.
You have lost yourself yourselves I mean.
No–a breast is not a self.
A self isn't too large and too small
Doesn't give milk no matter whose lips are on it
Doesn't disappear every night the self
Isn't tender the self is not attached.