Photograph and poem and reading by Dan Windisch January 2, 2019
Photo for Mastectomy Poem.
Paradox and pain
Who am I without my breasts?
A woman? Not?
Me? Not?
Who am I now?
Life or death, keep my Breast?
The easy smiling soft colored blondish woman
in the lightly red green and white faded loose cotton top,
Smiled gently and moved with ease
In our meditation workshop at Hollyhock.
She stood out in her quiet gentle beauty.
————
Evening in the hot tub.
Naked we sat
as the golden sun set
over shining blue waters.
Naked
she enters our waters.
Flat chested with a scar on one side,
and a tattoo of a pink carnation,
blooming,
on the other side.
She shines with beauty.
She talks of her pain of surgery, confusion.
Who was she? Was she a she?
Without her breasts.
She talked of her new blooming
And of the flowering tattoo
That was her new me.
More than breasts.
We are more than breasts or scars or bodies.
She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.