I spill pools of oil
that cluster like stars
on your swelling
pregnant belly
and swirl it into crescents
and glistening constellations
that form around
the hub
of the universe
that is your belly button.
I massage your universe
gently tenderly
as if I were God
creating it in the first place.
“You smile: “Mmmmm...oh...that’s so...nice! ”
After an hour
you drift to sleep
after another hour
I too fall asleep
your hip bone
jutting into my left eye
as my palm slows slowly down
and underneath my outstretched hand
(a universe away)
our baby moves her hand to meet my hand
asleep on top of your universe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem