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38 m a s t e c t o m y my phantom nipple feels a chill and if i itch, i scratch the air. Through this haze of Demerol, the neon whites, i see my firstborn nursing there. When the father ran off, ta-ta, i uncorked the cabernet. But you, you, dear friend, how very far we’ve come. and always the heart beneath you, doing its two-step. for fifty years we’ve danced to it. all right, i’ll admit, you were always my favorite— i’d rather they’d taken the other. now my heartbeat rattles the air. i’m a one-eyed Jill, a twiddle-Dee-Dum, a dromedary. such a vacancy you leave, a puddle of shadow, an abandoned lot. are you sorry, sorry? oh, they’ll replace you soon enough with a plastic tent, or a saline bubble with a rubber nipple. 39 But you know how i’ll keep on. i’m hardly undone. i’ll still sail half-mast, old friend, on this sweet breath you’ve left me. (for Miss Peggy) ...

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