Marta Luzim’s Writing the Wave: Mama’s Breasts

I was six when I saw mama naked form the waist up. Mama’s breasts were large, round and fleshy. I stared at them with wonder. I asked, “Mommy, when will I have those?” I pointed to her breasts.

“Later. Much later.” She said.

They became a mantra of sight. The image of her breasts. Mama, your breasts lift out of your cocktail dress. Hang over your skimpy nightgown, stick out in your turtleneck like fat bullets. You wanted the world to see your breasts. But your breast teachings were, “Never let anyone touch your body. Men are like dogs, they go from fire hydrant to fire hydrant.”

I hungered for the nurturance of your breasts, but they were made of mud and steel. You taught me to squelch my orgasms, to hate the smell of my body. So I fucked every bad boy to bond with the hatred you leaked all over onto me.

Mama. Considerable superficial charm and average intelligence

Absence of delusions or other signs of irrational thinking

Unreliable, disregards obligations, no sense of responsibility

Untruthful and insincere

Lack of remorse, no sense of shame

Poor judgment, does not learn from mistakes

Self-centeredness, incapacity for real love and attachment

No true insight, inability to see oneself as others do

Ingratitude, egocentric

Vulgarity, rudeness, quick mood shifts

Impersonal sex life

Failure to have a life plan

Personality disorder – traits are inflexible and maladaptive and cause either

Significant impairment in social and occupational functioning and subjective distress



Sexual intensity

Sexual release

Sexual intensity and insanity

Intensity of the insanity feels like the intensity

Of the sexuality.

How is this?

I seek…creatively?

How is this?

I don’t understand

Brain scrambling

Attachment disorder

Body feverish

Soul sadness

Life with mama

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