Her breasts

Susan L. Helwig
From:   Catch the Sweet. Toronto: Seraphim Editions, 2001.

Her breasts make me a sculptor
to strip her clothes off this early morning, once more
buttons, zippers,
watch her drink the day's first coffee, naked,
her hand, the cup, her lips
Her breasts sigh,
they feed the greedy babies that are my eyes
all hunger
Her breasts are not marble or art
they breathe slowly
ripple the water
Her breasts are never crushed in love
they cradle in my handsv as we make nesting spoons
they sing a perfect O
that I try to speak again and again:
fill me, fill me
once and for all.

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Susan L. Helwig's works copyright © to the author.