Queen of the queen-sized bed,
she sleeps between us
arms outstretched like a plus sign
Then she rolls to her side,
back facing her true north father
Her fat foot buttressing my jiggly belly
Somehow she latches onto sleep, never fearing
that I could crush the life right out of her
with the body that gave it.
No—her snoring is a mother’s aria
filling the room
with her sweet music.
She’s gumming for me,
nudging for a swig of warm milk
I let down and she takes me in,
cupping her hands around
my milk-full breast.
And when she falls asleep,
crazy drunk, I pull away—
she continues to suck
as if I am still there.
The next morning,
her jagged little teeth rub me awake.
Under my blouse
my sore, cracked nipple
is a jewel of pain.
Copyright 2006 January G. O'Neil