Milk

I hate to say that I need you,
suckling nipple.
Teat dry,
I cannot drink.
I ask for nourishment;
you abandon.
One plump breast offered
in lacy bra
put on show
to entice.
This milk is my blood,
my air, my life
yet with teasing eyes
you withdraw the offer.
You don’t even bother to watch me die.

2 thoughts on “Milk

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