Posts Tagged ‘breast exam’





By the time you wake,

the day is already a question.

Whatever declaration there was

in your dreams has already

curled itself into a question mark.

No matter how you wrestle

with the punctuation—try,

perhaps, to straighten it

into an exclamation or crumple it

into a period—regardless, the day

insists on being interrogative.

And why shouldn’t it

insist on being a curve

like a river bed,

like a nautilus,

like a naked breast

beneath the ultrasound—

nature despises a straight line.

Now what matters

is what always matters—

how will you meet the day?






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