pink gown

with a single ribbon
the pink gown closes in the front
signature color and gaped fabric
invite eyes
look, look at my breasts

we sit on soft vinyl benches
page through people magazines
golden globe gowns
we are braless
loose without armor to smooth
lift separate counter gravity

skin of breast
touches skin of chest
we wait for compression
hand tightened turning
radiation

how quickly she confides
there are calcifications in my breast tissue
I do not know what this means
calcium migrates to cancer
she tells me

the outline of her nipples
show through the loose gown
point slightly to her knees
another confection joins us
asks if we are allowed to wear jewelry
answers herself in the same breath
trying not to look at us

we look like overgrown girls
we look like magnetic ribbons
on the trunk of a lexus

it is my first time
I just want to leave my breasts here
and go home

I never wear pink
none of us do