Spared

Flat on my back
I taste your breath
as blades
hover for hours,
I will not sleep
despite good weed.

The doctor warned my
nips might tingle, so
I pull the duvet
tight and swaddle
myself, like you did
when you were alive,
to our baby girl.

Under the covers
I use my finger,
hips
lips
clit

nips
pink and hard,

still mine.(C) 2019 Stacey Z. Lawrence, All Rights Reserved.

Published in BIG WINDOWS REVIEW.

Long-List Fish Poetry Prize

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