Dee’s Ds

Good feeling

getting high as a kid.

Drunk as a skunk

on the coughing ol’Monk?

Trying out bras when

breasts are barely formed?

Stuffing paper to pad them,

puff them up? All of a sudden

twenty years have gone by,

breasts are there but

priorities shifted

from bosom-padding style.

Now they barely say “hello”

from under baggy shirts

there is no peek-a-boo –

comfort or functionality

has overridden sexuality

and as I undress to

splash into the pool,

I hear an astonished voice

loud as a car honk

in the middle of an empty parking:

“what! You have boobs?”

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