Sometimes you won’t be, oftentimes you will
see spots and feel lost. If they persist make yourself
an appointment with a quiet man with unremitting sentences
and cold fingers which will explore new fears, fresh cul-de-sacs
leading to excision by a woman with a practiced smile,
knife-thin latex and a distance
that prevents inappropriate contact.

Sometimes you won’t be, one day you will
and meanwhile you find a new lump -
don’t wait, make an appointment
with the quiet man and he may say something
you won’t hear above the screams swallowed by old nausea.

Sometimes you won’t be, one day you will
and meanwhile you let regret rise
and tell your daughter all the too lates
that wait unopened.

And one day you will.