Bonsai

Surgery on the breasts  
speak to the ancient art of
feet binding  
and reminds us
that we have not been born  
with the intents of being pruned
in areas that are
simply wrong to exist in...
punished
by the sloughing
of mandarin type flesh and dead tissue
in hopes of securing
a particular disposition in life
and the layers of gauze always
secret the new skin
not for contempt
nor shame of being gilded
by the ways in which I may appear to this world...
not for my partner's pleasure
but for mine  
not to become any size to cute
but to breathe
like the river
cat calling the sky.