“Blessing for My Left Breast” by Anya Krugovoy Silver (poem)

Your skin slit round with a scalpel:
be brave.
Rise to the aluminum tray, the biopsy needle.
Go, nipple; go, milk ducts; go, veins.
Take with you my lymph nodes,
canaries of illness, blood cells’ puff balls.

Blessed be my chest wall for surrendering.

Now you will never shrink and wrinkle with age,
clove-studded orange, bittersweet.

Taken in your beauty, let the last hands
that hold you
be gentle.

This poem is from The Ninety-Third Name for God (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2010). Used by permission of the publisher.

Anya Krugovoy Silver (1968–2018) was an American poet who authored five poetry collections: Saint Agnostica (posthumously published, 2021), Second Bloom (2017), From Nothing (2016), I Watched You Disappear (2014), and The Ninety-Third Name of God (2010). Diagnosed with inflammatory breast cancer in her thirties, she wrote often about life’s precariousness, the trauma of chronic and terminal illness, and holding on to joy and religious faith. She was named Georgia Author of the Year for Poetry in 2015 and was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship in 2018. She taught at Mercer University until her death in 2018.