In the Valley of the Breasts
Haley Guariglia


Mother is full of fear
surgeon couldn’t quite cut out
healing with large scars to tell
the story of pain, age and waiting
 
there is a cryptic message within the concave sockets
perfection that has something to do with a darkness
arms lay limp at the side, cannot be raised
above the threaded black sutures
 
the nipples have gone missing
discarded with the other flesh
that toyed with PalB2
 
when I found out my aunt had one
breast I was young and floored
by the falsie she wore in her bra
making two perfect mounds underneath her shirt
 
cancer knocked again and she was breastless
so much reconstruction needed to repair the missing parts
isn’t that always how it goes? Woman strive to make their bodies
home. Are there nights ahead
 
of sleeping on your stomach unencumbered
does the suture always leave
a trail of seams. The reminder you once were
dressed only in skin held close to the chest

About the Author: Haley Guariglia grew up in the creeks of Columbia, Missouri,  and currently resides in Kansas City, Missouri, with her boyfriend and an eighteen-year-old cat, Fedora. Her interests include interpretive dance, bugs, costume creation, and reading aloud. Her favorite poet of 2016 is Kate Marvin.

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