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.