Mastectomy, Simple

Mastectomy, Simple

I never expected to feel the cool drink running

so close to my skin, just under my newly sutured

chest, my heart side now genderless and tender—

to love my flat chest, so much like the one I had at 13,

skateboarding in t-shirts without a bra. Never expected

to notice my right nipple, how it still becomes hard—

a lonely pleasure like that of an only child.

Never expected to forsake the idea

of a matched set, how someone could rest their head

on my left chest, tuck in like a baby to its father,

hear the oscillation of my heartbeat, just beneath

the surface, resonant fountain, chamber music.

This poem was first published in the Bellevue Literary Review Issue #40.

Bonnie S. Kaplan is a poet and educator who has worked with the justice-involved for over 25 years. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies and journals, most recently in Sinister Wisdom, Room, and The Bellevue Literary Review, where her poem, “Mastectomy, Simple,” was a finalist for the 2021 Marica and Jan Vilcek Poetry Prize. See more at bonnieskaplan.com