My Nurse & I
after Frida Kahlo
Upon this tit I sip,
whilst Mother
poses a blank, her
face an
unmarked grave above
me.
Her eyes are lidded
slits
whilst mine, too
dry,
endeavour to drink
the world.
Her body is earth;
her breast
swells to a tree,
suckling my
bone-seeded urge.
Hunger
is all & all I
am. The sky
swimming with milk
as I
suck the universe
dry.
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