The breasts you paid for....

I had this dream
Of maggots falling out of my bra.
I hastily
Uncinched the clasps
And flung it
Onto the ground.
I stood in horror
As they flooded into hundreds of grisly
Streams, darting through the dirt.
They fled, though not quickly,
Some stuck to the cotton of my bra.
Some satisfied with lounging in piles,
Basking in my warm C cup.

I loathe maggots
But maybe I judge too harsh.
The maggots in my dream
Tried to intervene...
 
I heard,
A little.
To the disease
Brewing in my chest.
I could sense the rot.
But I kept that bra on
A week too long
And the maggots
Found their mark.