Breast Before Breast

Her left breast was last, at least on my mind, as the right one appeared before me like a small miracle, although it was voluminous and more beautiful than any moon, even the one smiling every month as if announcing its senility both to the Sun and any other observer.

I looked at her right breast with love in my chest, also for the left still unseen one, which happened to be a bit larger than the right in a cosmic eyes-to-heart. I will love you both, equally, I told her breasts, only imagining her left nipple's outlook in time.

It is not me in the photo, but I know the feeling and the breast; the right one. When I finally tasted the left, I understood why they tended to come in twos. One breast is never enough, needing some rest before the lips and mouth can taste it again.

To think that her left breast covered her heart, as every left breast does out of the cosmic arrangement afforded it when things settle to their ways of right and left, although the breasts would be favoured from birth to death. Breasts should last forever, as they are all love.

I forgot about them, both the right and the left, that is until I saw them again in a dream. I was awake, thinking of them together and apart. Two breasts and then one; the right breast, with a protruding nipple, asking to be kissed almost relentlessly. Who can stop?

We all do for one reason or another. I cannot bring myself to a halt when it is the left breast in my mouth, as it is tied to her heart, and my spirit spends its space and time inside. She appreciates it, smiling at first, before her eyes speak.

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The Breasts of My Love - A Biased Account

What angels of love her breasts are

So supple

So tasty

So roomy

So readily sharing their nipples divine

So homey

So wonderfully appealing no matter their size or hue

So uplifting

So demanding given their stature

So beautiful

So memorable

So mine at that time and space

Facing the breasts of my love

What happiness

What merriment

What togetherness I felt with her breasts

Like a trio

Mu, M, and Mi

Jolly together

We had so much love

I love them too much, methinks

Luckily my love does not mind

She loves them too

What a dream

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Her left breast was left after her right. I had tears on my cheeks, both joyous and sad. I kissed her and then I kissed her breast; the left one. I adored it; I still do whenever I see it in my hand and or feel it in my head.

I can see her breasts when she laughs, cascading up and down and right to left, with love. I sometimes turn my head upside down to see them moving down and up and left to right. What an organ is the brain; both the right and left hemispheres, like breasts.

Can I see them again? I asked after almost a year without them, and her. She refused to show them, smiling before replying that it would not be wise. Is love any wiser? I asked myself after she left to continue her life without my hand, both, and my mouth.

A breast is a breast is a breast. I wish. I only have eyes for hers; her right and her left breasts. I love them because I love her. I love her because I love them. What about the rest of her? I was doomed and lucky from the start.