Breast of Roses
Breast of roses where her femininity used to be.
A scent of blossoms milled out by mastectomy.
The clippings praise and curse at the same time.
Her petals falling, weeping, assaulted, past prime.
Not fair…not the way she wanted to lose weight.
She ambles, learning to walk with this offsetting gait.
They were ample, with a perfect curvature, round.
She used to complain…now her buddies can’t be found.
With this primeval bouquet she’s not lost her life.
She’s more alive then ever after she’s been under the knife.
She’s a different scent, more vibrant with the love of her life.
He’s learned that what he would truly miss is his wife.
10/19/2022
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2022
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