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Butterfly Breast From afar he noticed her breasts firm and strong, yet pliable enough to move with the wafting of the wind. His heart leaped and raced, his thoughts suffocating, feelings, feelings new, feelings strange, catapulting him to desire intimacy and its warmth. Her breasts were cisterns that gave me life. Gushing elixir that nourished and sustained my soul, soft, supple, full of mystical power that could heal my heart, dry my eyes, and lull my troubled mind. Fierce breasts that created oceans of promise, hope, in a world where human hearts lack compassion and concern. Her breasts hung down, suffering from the gift of time. Like the leaves of a weeping willow they cry. Prodded, stretched, and pulled, worn by unselfish usage. Voices of malignancy whisper at the steps of death Radioactive waves Probe for life among the dead. Was the purpose realized, to arouse the desire for life, to create life, sustain life, and then die by decapitation? #Unreal #Poetry #KeithWallace #BreastCancer #Life #Female #Cycle #Transformation #Love #Breasts #MammaryGlands Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter. CommentsComments are closed.
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