Ode to the Titty Fairy

For ten long years you blessed
my scanty boozums
abundantly.
How wondrous to fill
out my dresses and shirts
and to, for the first time,
justify wearing a bra.
For the duration of your visit
my body swelled and
shrank,
four times in all.

My uterus has ballooned
for the final time,
never to distend again,
though I will appear
four months pregnant
every time I eat too much.

My baby,
my seca leche
(milk dryer-upper),
is three-years-old next week.
You are no longer needed,
so you have pocketed your fairy dust,
packed your wand and flitted away,
stripping my chest of its curves.

Just because you aren’t needed
does not mean you aren’t wanted.
Did you know that?

I miss you.

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