Breastman
Breastman
I’ve seen more tits than you’ve had
microwave dinners for one.

I’ve crushed them
and seen their faces
take comfort in the grip
and blessed release
when I let go.

I’ve held hers
while her arm reached out
for me – stretching.
I’m all hard cool.

I’m the mamomat
that you didn’t know
she’d seen on the sly
‘til it was too late
and I’d looked right through her
to find a tumour
the size of
your isolation
and growing.
Home
Candenza
Edvard Munch,Femme á sa toilette, 1892.
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