This morning I sat down
Sat down to write that poem
The poem about your belly
It made me vulnerable
So vulnerable that I stopped writing
Realizing that it is not about me
Its your belly, the poem about
I sat down again, to jot down few lines
Then I didn’t know what to write
I did word association
Your belly, soft, puffy, plummy, yummy..
..electrifying, enamoring…
I felt dissatisfied, a taste of jealousy
The thin layer of shirt between
Between your belly and my palm was the villain
I wished he hadn’t been there
I might want to move left or right or up or down
To explore all other soft puffy areas
Areas nature carved out so beautifully
A ray of shudder passed through my skin
And I melted into a brook and flowed all over
May be that shirt was a blessing
Lest I should lose myself
I still wonder,
Was I writing about your belly
Or the feel I felt about your belly
I don’t know, I don’t care
It all feel puffy and soft and good
Knowing that your belly is
Another marvel of nature