MILK, BLOOD & LOVE

My daughter looks up at me with pure awe
like I'm her North Star, like I'm her celestial help.
She does this so often that I've started
to believe her;
lately I've been wishing on myself
following my own direction.
She's deemed me heroine,
this tiny cosmic being I lay breastfeeding, while recovering
from surgery and restarting menstruation.
I have been doused in milk, blood
& love.
Now let the other warriors proclaim again that men
are more physically strong.
When it counts, my breasts stay fuller than their mouths,
and with more nutritional value.
They - or something designed to imitate them –
gave life to countrymen
before they could pronounce our nation's name,
when they all reached out for ma-ma
before ma-chetes or ma-chine guns,
before they could plan out proud partitions,
or make them,
or break them.

Lionheart,
remember from whence you came,
that mother fed you all the same.

This piece is from my poetry collection To Mother, available on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086Q86ZCW/