When nighttime sinks our eyes
& the city lights hum through the window
I quietly inch myself towards your mother
I wrap my arms ’round her belly
& you become the world
All day she carries you
But it is at night that we connect
It is at night that I receive a taste of your story
I lay my head against your mother’s back
So I can hear your heartbeats through her bones
In Morse code you send me your secrets
One hundred and thirty-two a minute
Then like a blind man I read the Braille
Of your movements underneath the belly
& they become my only landscape
The short kick—The long shift—The quick poke
Is this your head
Was that a thigh or maybe an arm
Shapes & turns—Angles & waves
You have every body—you are every position
And with my eyes closed
The rhythm of my
Fingers read the person you will be
& nothing else matters