Nursling

by Beverly Tjerngren

I feel your breath on my skin
and I reach out an arm to pull you closer
In one fluid motion I put you to breast
and you accept the offer
not graciously but greedily
This is no madonna and child
still and serene in soft light
This is nothing less than supply and demand
pulling, pinching, kicking, kneading, demanding demand
Nothing less
But also something more