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Joelle Taylor Mother’s Milk My mother has breast cancer Breast cancer has my mother The life giver Has turned upon her. The breast Bit Back. We follow in our mother’s footsteps Not our father’s. The thin black spider Squats at the spiny top And suckles the milk Before it can Succour her children And this spider Corrupt Fingering lymph-like worry beads Feeds And grows still thinner On our future. And now the veins Of her empty breasts 50 Envelopes without letters Are clogged with litter Her shelves are empty Children Queue. It spreads Its insectile legs Like the sickly roots Of a needy tree Until they Become her veins Her streets That we once kicked and scuffed Are now dust And useless air. The life giver Has turned upon her. I have hurt my heart mum See? It bleeds. My mother is dying But still she breathes Denies Knits Reads As her breast Bites back And from our Beautiful future Feeds. 51 ...

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