Look at Me Jeannie Morgenstern You call my breasts “The twins” And that makes my smile curdle. We do not have children together. What you said makes my hands withdraw a little closer to my chest And my heart sink a little more into the bottom of my feet. The moment dies Right there. To me, “The twins” are not my breasts, They are two succulents planted Outside my backdoor That you have never walked out of; They are two little green stars in the soil that look at me, unblinking, with their gentle Green color and unparalleled Symmetry, the same that Hail from my grandma’s garden, Although you wouldn’t know that, Because you haven’t been there, Either. Sometimes my sister and I are “the twins”. I know you know that; How many times have I heard you joke about how it’s every guy’s dream to “do twins” (You’re every guy, it’s your dream too) My breasts are not twins, they are not The same, at all, They are human and imperfect and They do not mimic the symmetry of the succulents. They are definitely Not any offspring of ours, Nor are they the pair my sister and I make. They are different from these things, Although you wouldn’t know that Because it’s not as if you’ve ever really Actually Looked at me anyway. !
60