Whatever you call them
breasts or twins
they precede us
and divert looks
or maybe attract none.

All life suckles there
heads lay there
babies drink.

I remember at 13,
their nuturance
and that single wish
they'd grow.

Push-ups I admit,
I tried to hurry along the process,
but such mixed feelings there.

Mine grew
My sisters didn't.

They got the attention
I didn't;
my sister got interest
in her
and not them.

They hang
a little more now
than I like;
sister and I
hug
and they
bow-
between us.

she has one less
cancer-stricken;

and I have the love
she needs;
sister bonds;
us;
one is not missed.

Lonnie Hicks

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tale-of-two-breasts-anna-s-story/