Beverly's belly, chest, breast
and absence of breast
lean into the future with love.
Love lifts her chin
like the prow of a ship parting waves;
love honors the place
where one of her breasts
no longer is. All that her lost
nipple once yearned to give
in the way of pleasure and sustenance
lives. When Bev hears the cries
of women who suffer as she did,
spirit milk from her breast overflows
through her voice, hands, eyes-
She welcomes, listens, witnesses,
cries, laughs, encourages, hugs.
As a new mother rides the swell
and the spill of the milk in her breasts,
rising to her baby's cries, Bev rides
the same flood of kindness inside her
that keeps her so keenly alive.