Poem #4

Belly Dance #1

Stomach muscles

ripple flesh

into fluid circles of delight,

perfumed garden

and silky night


ancient enticement

sidles down

the spiral


and always the bellybutton

stillpoint at the centre

holy omphalos

that feeds the embryo.


I don’t dare

to do this dance.

Instead I stitch

baubles and beads

onto bold blocks

of sari silks and satins

bellybutton them

with embossed blazons

then circle them

with more stitchery

and couchings of gold.

Belly dance #1

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