Less of a Woman?

It had been four long months
since her mastectomy. 
Four months spent feeling
incomplete and empty;
like she was no longer a woman.
Her sensuality,
her eroticism
had dried up
like a raisin in the sun.
She avoided her husband.
No hugs,
no innocent body brushes,
no kissing
and certainly no touching. 
One day he caught her off guard.
He grabbed her by the waist
and lifted her into his arms. 
He carried her to the bedroom
and tossed her on the bed.
Before she could protest
he grabbed her shirt
and pulled it over her head.
She tried to cover her missing breasts
with her hands
but he stopped her.
He looked at her breasts
and then he looked her lovingly in the eyes.
"You are beautiful.
Always have been, always will be."
With that simple sentiment
he pressed kisses to each of her scars
and then held her while she wept.