Lumpy Lumps-Mary and John
He presses his hand
on my breast
and increases the pressure
exploring
moving slowing
rotating his finger tips
to that adjacency
where index finger
takes a turn
on my gentle breast rise
and probes
the gentle probe
which mixes
exigency,
and anxiety.
'Do you feel a lump I said'
'No nothing yet' he says.
He strokes with his finger tip
across the mounting rise
centering on the nipple tip
pressing down
breast deep
centering with
smooth
rollings
and I say
'Do you feel anything'
'Nothing yet'
Beneath both
he presses
slowly up
till
there he says he feels I small bumps
which I say are glands
not growths.
Every week he feels my breasts
to see if lumpy lumps
have appeared.
We both share
this tense time
mixed
with intimacy.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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