The Knife

Five years ago a surgeon's knife
severed a breast
to save my life.
It was a fair exchange.
I still survive.
And I no longer need that chunk of flesh
to feed a child
or lure a lover.
But I have become a voyeur.
In spite of myself, I often stare
at high, firm mounds under tight clothing,
bare bosoms over daring décolletage,
bold bulges enhanced by clever brassieres.
I try not to be envious.
I have had my day.
Yet I can't stop feeling
such things should come in pairs,
not a lopsided solo
like mine.
And I want to warn
the beautiful, innocent girls
flaunting their beautiful, innocent wares--
enjoy it--
enjoy it
while you can.