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.
Lonnie Hicks
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lumpy-lumps-mary-and-john/
