Let’s Talk About Them

by Eliya Lavine

There lies a popular assumption-
Perhaps patriarchy-inspired, perhaps not-
(It gets to be beside the point)
That the bounty in my breasts’ buoyant rhythm
Necessitates a booming conversation

You start small talk about my big boobs

If we have to talk about it, could you, at least, whisper?

Sports bras pouring out of my dresser drawers
Spilling out from the sides
Strap myself into the synthetic fiber of self consciousnessbra
Stretched seams
Tucking into myself in shyness
Folding at the slightest touch

I wish you would whisper
                        But I stop futile attempts at hushing all the voices
                        As I burst open my
                             Chest of books
                        And know that in this, my, library

Muted tones, tea cups can’t contain these
Goblet-sized goddesses of mine

My alphabet begins with
Double G
And I plan to read these letters every day

Loose tank top grazes their rounded pages
In a half moon smile
My mind fantasizes
While I browse through the
Fiction aisle

In each tale I imagine
My breasts as heroines of the plot
I tell of them conquering countries and slaying dragons and I all but forgot
To whisper

Eliya Lavine could woo a mountain lion with her laugh.