by Tiffany Jimenez

It was lunchtime at work
and I was missing you.
Less than an ounce of breastmilk released
though I was swollen with what I’d thought was at least one bottle’s worth built up.
I cried a little
and compared myself to my friends
who had milk to spare
after weaning their littles off of them.
Their breasts larger-and-smaller than mine.
I cried some more when I thought about the night before:
How you kept pinching me with your fat fingers and how I’d screamed!
In the tiny privacy room,
I pinch and punch and twist and massage
hoping there’s more inside of me because I could’ve sworn there was.

Tiffany Jimenez is from Oakland, California. She earned her BA in Creative Writing from UC Santa Cruz, and her MFA from Saint Mary’s College of California. Other than being an ardent supporter of the imagination and the art of storytelling, she writes a lot, laughs a lot, startles easily, and loves potatoes. She is on Twitter @tiffunnyj and her website is tiffanyjimenez.com.