Tuesday, March 1, 2011

the milkmaid

take this nested breast
flower cream, or blood colored nipple
watch our bodies make these ripples

over sheets so white and clean.

my love i know i am far away
the babies squall mouthed suck
always before your hands

always before your eyes.

the house is a jungle forest
water steams from teenage dreams
showers that last longer than dinner

cooks with tears and breastmilk.

but between us
there is a non calculated symmetry
between late and never made it at all

a collective groan of longing

her cries rise like tiny balloons
popping over our heads
she is the queen

i am the milkmaid in your bed.

maggie may ethridge
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