Two Days After

Two days after the whipping of the biopsy
I am sobered at the bruised and blemished
diagnostic damage to my breast.

The skin is mingled with purple,
or nearly black,
where it once was milky and soft.

When I carried my babies in a sling
near this locket of love,
I testified with conviction
that my body was a miracle.

Even now, my faith is not splintered
and I will not plunder my hope on fear.

My body, a miracle to have given so much life.

Still it has room to make more love
with the spectacular abyss of this stranger
in these intimate cells.