buttermilk

a child
butter wouldn’t melt
a babe
unable to feed
a faulty succulent
unattached and drifting
out
was mothers milk bitter
cold
a sting
citrus to honey of womb
blood
but you sucked on lemons
later
drawn to sharpness
spurning
mother
spurning
sweetness
later
you hollowed out your hip bones
later
unable to feed
a second childhood
was it a baby’s cry
for help
a crawl
out of faulty flesh and back
way back
to the honey
prelapsarian blood
o succulent
o lemon suckler
you went looking
for shelter
for milk
for milk and
honey with your eyes
shut
with your fists
with your lips
sewn
later
a woman
lapping
the milk of human kindness
the sweetness
finding
blood
finding
heat
later
swallowing and swelling
filling
plate
filling place at table
thighs kiss
hips
later
o babe
o succulent
you bear fruits

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