TITS

"I'd pay more attention to them

if they were BIGGER"

That's what he said.

"They're so small I forgot about them."

Uh-huh, that's what he said.

Too small to fill a B-cup and

Way smaller than my ass.

He forgot two babies grew fat

and sleepy because they suckled

my half pint breasts.

They only knew that it was warm,

sweet and felt good in their bellies.

He forgot about my tits even

after seeing my blue-white milk

under moon-yellow cream

in bottles filled from the leftovers.

He forgot about them when he
fucked me.
My tits did all they were supposed
to.

He didn't.




by Tary Peace. Cracker gardener with a magic touch. Queen of fishing. Worm hunter. Songstress. Glass maker. A shock of reddish hair and a beautiful face hides one of the most glorious souls I'm privileged to know.





Painting is "Psyche" (Fredrick Leighton 1830 – 1896)