It is not involving or showing violence and bloodshed
we perform the deed away from the profound disapproval of men,
as if they too did not suckle from
The idea has been disseminated on the minds of our culture,
watered and grown;
my breasts are not covered or marked with anything unclean,
grimy, grubby or filthy,
but a vessel in which I carry the pure substance of my love.
it is a tragedy,
the murder of love,
when the mendacity stretches across the lips of the smiling women,
the ones without the burden of filth,
when they lilt the men don’t want to hear the gory details
of my nursing.