I Love Breasts
If you can’t say something nice
About a woman’s breasts,
You need to learn more words!
I love breasts
Of all sizes and shapes and variations
I remember the first pair of breasts
I was intimate with
They were soft and firm
White with thick brown nipples
Surrounded by large circles of the areolas,
She was my first serious girlfriend
And I was so lucky to touch,
Kiss and suck on her breasts
They were 34 C’s according to her bra –
A short hair grew near the nipple
On her right breast,
And I always meant to tell her
How much I loved it
Though I think it was more
Of an embarrassment to her,
But all the petting we did
Did not lead to a lasting relationship
Which might have allowed me
To broach the subject…
I won’t try to catalog
All the breasts I have known up close
Or all the cleavage and side boobs,
Bouncing breasts,
Erect nipples pushing out cloth
And small and large bosoms,
I have admired
I think my dream job
Would have been the making of a travelogue –
“Breasts around the World,”
But I was beaten by a German-Bohemian duo
Of photographers in the early 1900’s
Who traveled North Africa,
Lehnert & Landrock were their names
And they set out to make postcards more popular
With various portrayals of nude women
Living in the various tribes and native groups
Of that time
And these men were followed by other photographers
Capturing the beauty of naked women
Now called vintage nudes
Bellocq photographed prostitutes in New Orleans
While later Alfred Cheney Johnston had a career of
Revealing on film the au naturel talents
Of Ziegfeld Follies female stars and dancers
Including some celebrities you might know
Like Claudette Colbert, Dorothy Flood and Clara Bow
Perhaps, I should take a moment,
To declare I am enchanted by the entire form
And all the parts of a female
Beauty is beauty
And this poem is not about objectifying women,
It is but an expression of my sexual reproductive
Sexual excitement system –
My hormonal cells
Tended to latch onto breasts first,
As my sexual awareness blossomed,
And I have yet to lose my fascination for them
Perhaps this is just a natural formation from
My first experiences in puberty,
When kissing and holding hands
Could lead to the touching of a girlfriend’s breasts,
But going further lead
To the dire danger of pregnancy
Or, perhaps, the psychiatrists among you
Will find this incident informative:
One day coming home from school
And walking into the living room
I found my mother breastfeeding
My baby brother, 13-years my younger,
And Mom asked me a question
That I was completely unprepared for,
“Would I like to taste her breast milk?”
I was about to answer affirmatively
When I noticed my sister watching
From where she stood
On the stairs above me
And a sheath of humiliating shyness
Overwhelmed me and I said, “No.”
And stumbled off to my room.
I don’t know why Mom asked,
The subject never rose
Perhaps, she just wanted to have
A mother – son basic bonding
One more time,
But my opportunity
To be again her baby
For just a little while
This time with a conscious mind
Was forever lost
Still, for whatever reason in my psyche,
I love breasts
And you might ask,
“If I love breasts so much,
“Why don’t I grow a pair?”
Living in a world
With so many gender striations,
I just might do that!
©2021 Carl Scott Harker
