Of sin, behind the, beauty’s shame
The yarn of tangled, teats in cage
Euphemize them, with a moral name
Every ounce of “Breasts”, worth an outrage!

How they dangled down, my mother’s heart
Those cherries lusted, O! My Soul!
Until I grew, to tell apart
How sin is, skin in hyperbole!

Yet, those who, flaunt and glorify
Nursing rituals, o’er mag covers
With shapely forms, objectify
Feminism’s truth; lie on mothers!

Amid poise and pride; two tombs of bliss
A mother resents, a woman’s snobbery
This spectacle ain’t, without malice
A Blasphemy Oh! So Mammary!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra