Malda Smadi

Edition XXXIV

An Ode to Breasts - by Malda Smadi (Photo by Malda Smadi).jpgPhoto credit: Malda Smadi

An Ode to Breasts

By Malda Smadi

As a child, I reimagined my flat chest with water balloons eager to become a woman.
And as I grew up, I understood that my breasts were small.
So I filled my t-shirts in with push-ups bras that felt more like body armor,
but later preferred the lightness of a B-cup.
Yet I still had to subdue their presence in front of men.
And then I started to worry about them sagging!
So I exercised the muscles in my chest.
Then my friend died of breast cancer at 23,
so I exercised self-examination on a monthly basis instead.
I thought of all the breasts that were deemed unattractive,
and my breasts didn’t matter anymore.
Except there was the part about intimacy and sexuality,
and maybe one day, motherhood.
But eventually, a pair your grandchildren will laugh at.
If you’re lucky.
And then surely, death.


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