I keep forgetting FPB, but today’s Poem of the Week email both reminded me and provided me with material.
Kutti Revathi is a Tamil poet who says of her work, “People always ask me why I do not write poems about societal concerns and issues, as though attempts to bring about inner renewal and inner transformation were not acts of social concern. I use my language only to loosen the fetters that have bound and shrunk a woman’s body.”
The link goes to a brief introduction and links to four poems; my favourite of the four (trans. N. Kalyan Raman) is below, but do read them all.

BREASTS
Breasts are bubbles, rising
In wet marshlands
I watched in awe — and guarded —
Their gradual swell and blooming
At the edges of my youth’s season
Saying nothing to anyone else,
They sing along
With me alone, always:
Of Love,
Rapture,
Heartbreak
To the nurseries of my turning seasons,
They never once forgot or failed
To bring arousal
During penance, they swell, as if straining
To break free; and in the fierce tug of lust,
They soar, recalling the ecstasy of music
From the crush of embrace, they distill
The essence of love; and in the shock
Of childbirth, milk from coursing blood
Like two teardrops from an unfulfilled love
That cannot ever be wiped away,
They well up, as if in grief, and spill over