Or Rather Silly Daily Thoughts
Another summer weekend.
School is far from thoughts.
Too hot for clothes,
more or less.
Midnight.
Gaggles of giggling
Lolitas wander the main drag.
Dressed
or undressed
depending on your definition.
Long bare adolescent legs.
Frayed shorts barely covering buttocks
go up in front
to just below
the belly button.
Paired with tops
that stop
just short of
. . .
the belly button.
They say
the tank top is coming back.
No sign here so far.
Belly buttons.
Navels.
Omphalos.
Center of the earth.
Girls do.
Boys don’t.
Except the Etruscans did.
Show them off.
Men with over-flowing paunches.
A status symbol,
they ate well.
Their women much more modest.
Don’t forget
the belly dancers.
Mostly ladies here
although I did find reference
to a male belly dancer.
What would a belly dancer be
without the belly button?
What would we be
without our belly buttons,
exquisitely human give-a ways?
So, let’s contemplate our navels
and meditate
on what to do tomorrow.
I love this! I’m not sure if it was your intention, but I can’t stop laughing. Your belly buttons have brightened up this gray day. Grazie! And now you’ve got me thinking back to my first bikini—white and covered with rows of lace. Although it was actually pretty demure and modest, to wear it felt quite daring at the time, probably 1963-ish. Hoarder that I am, until our recent downsizing I kept it and the two French ones from 1966 bought on the beach in Biarritz. Even though they still sort of fit, they didn’t look nearly as good as they used to. To everything there is a season…👵
Envoyé de mon Di-Phone
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It was of course meant to be fun. I also had to get a more demure one-piece bathing suit when visiting in St. Louis in 1974 or 1975.
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Brilliant! 😄
Sent from my iPhone
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