These Breasts Hang Low
by Tigris Powers

These Breasts hang heavy with what
my heart can no longer hold.
They are wisdom keepers,
though weathered and old.

They’ve listened to longing whispers
of  lovers long since gone by.
They’ve heard the life affirming hunger
in my children’s sweet cries.

And offered milk
While my tears ran dry.

They have felt the gentle tug
of primal insecurity.
They have swelled as the tide
when my lonely womb did bleed.

They have been sadly discriminated against
by men, giving more “out-spoken”
candidates first preference.
And not to overlook the endured humiliation,
when referred to as the three-letter word,
I’ll fail to mention.

They have feared for life,
when my dear friends left,
swallowed by a lump,
a hit-and-run within their chest.

They have jiggled and pranced,
under the full moon’s vigil,
while my virgin body danced.
Eager to lie in his arms, per chance!

They have felt the embrace
of many a human in this great race,
who have come to be cradled
in a moment’s grace.

And the mother smiled upon my face.

While men have built religions
in the desperate hunt for salvation.
This is what I know.
And my heart simply overflows

As these breasts hang low.

©Tigris Powers, 2007-2008