The Remaining Breast
I was showing my sister something about my breasts.
Glancing down I noticed with surprise
That I had only one and that the other
Lay flat, low, wrinkled, a rotted prune.
It’s only because I stayed so long in the bath
I explained in panic and haste.
In the dream it was my right breast
That was gone and my left one
That remained, a nasty thing, stained brown
As if a mug of coffee had been flung at it.
I looked at it as if under water.
She…she…you, you refused to look.
