It is impossible to know the edges of it
A small mismanaging of syllables
turns something anatomical into
the aura of the holiest
This halo of faint light
surrounding my nipple
an island bleeding out into an irregular sea
with satellite islands
cast out into the waves
little dark spots of crusted colour
expelled from the mainland.
Who would live on these age spots?
These specs abandoned by the whole
I would live on them
with a little boat
from the ocean
of a luminous breast.