Delta (no. 115 of Women’s names sensual series)
It humors me when couples
stepping out from NY ferries
unto Vessy Street,
the men proudly displaying
their big-breasted women,
holding their hands tightly
as if they were balloons in disguise;
their curvaceous chests could inflate
and they could fly away,
leaving their men with memories
of nuzzling and water-boating
alone, with their dicks in their hands?
My breasts are size FF,
too heavy for my body frame.
I take a half-Tylenol each day
to starve away the pain.
My man thinks my breasts
are his possessions alone.
I ask about reductions,
he looks at me
like he was slapped
in the face.
I hate it that my name today
has become a sickness agent
that circumvents people
already saved by needed vaccinations,
still, my chest is my own.
One day, I want to jog
without pain, & to breathe
without fear of catching
anything airborne.
When will that day come?