1 Mar 2017

Poem 3

To my daughter, aged 3 weeks

Your shoulder is as ravishing as any screen goddess’s,
carrying its thin layer of fat delicately,
like the skin on an uncooked ham.

I pull away your vest to reveal it as you feed,
this shoulder that one day
some lover will linger over, caress,

but will never be more beautiful than now,
rolled beneath my eye, my kiss.

© Megan Hall

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