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i love the curve
of a woman’s belly –
that gentle roundedness
arcing just below her
belly-button and ending
just above her mons veneris.

There is something
very intriguing about
that curve - something
secretive, something
wondrous - it
peeks impishly out
and teases;
it is as if she is
trying to conceal
an astounding revelation
that is too overwhelming,
too magnificent, to be
completely concealed –

like, perhaps,
that in her,
in that gentle curve
of her belly,
she holds the orb
of the world,
the whole world,
the whole of
humankind,
the whole of
humanity.