Super Moon

I ran outside to see the super moon

My eyes caught only fire flies, and that’s when I realized

Like the moon, we are all mirrors for the sun, specks of stardust

I ran outside holding withered roses, cursing the thorns in my haste

That is when I tasted the truth that my lips don’t only produce diamonds and flowers, but toads and vipers too

I was only kidding myself that just because I act selfless, doesn’t mean I don’t have selfish desires

Narcissism is the sharpest edge of the empathic knife with which I forge through life

If I didn’t possess any of those qualities, how could I have attracted those types to me?

With renewed gratitude, I love my humble husband

The only thing he fills my hands with are his own, and that is enough

After the last dish was washed I ran outside, overwhelmed with anger and grief for what I cannot undo

I struck a chair pose, sitting into my discomfort until my thighs burned and my mind emptied and my excess energy evaporated upward, toward the super moon

A Tale of Two Titties

My tits used to be ornamental, fruit of my tree

Now they serve a purpose greater than me

I breastfeed my baby night and day

Engorged and heavy, my tits now sway

Leaky Lefty has an easy flow

Old Faithful, the right breast, is steady and slow

Faithful humbly carried the load when Lefty was out of commission due to a painful combination of mastitis and a blocked milk duct

My breasts lost their perkiness and youthful appeal long ago

Before the rise of services such as Only Fans, for which they could have raked in riches, I’m told

I’ve worked a lot harder for a lot lower wages

Putting aside all rampages, I bow my head in gratitude for my body, my baby, and my reproductive freedom