“Piglets” Now at Matter Press for Compressed Creative Arts

Piglets

Piglets

by Rae Bryant

The day we visited the county fair, the piglets were born. They huddled into their mother, nipping and rooting at her teats. The sow lay there as dead. And an insatiable urge came over me. My nipples had turned hard and vulnerable, watching those piglets suck life from their mother. I tried, at first, to be covert about it. Rubbed my upper arm, slowly, against my breast. Then I rubbed with bigger movements, turning my waist and shoulders for better reach because in a flash of some unbelievable memory the largest of the piglets, the one rooting and pushing the others away with its big piglet head, was sucking at me. And the boy with his arm around my waist said, What’s wrong?… READ MORE