Originally published in Tributaries (2011)

Oh lint in my bellybutton,
Whence comest thou?
Surely you,
Who keeps my navel warm at night,
Are the manifestation of love
And warmth,
And all things good,
Which cradle in the center
Of my being.

Lint, though you are gray,
Do not despair!
Those who wash you out
Are empty inside,
Where I am full.

Oh lint in my bellybutton,
How I miss thee so,
When I search
And find naught
In the center of my being.
Lint, you Omphalic dust
Collecting in the center of life,
I mourn for the outties
Who do not know you.

Lint you gay gathering
Of dust and of hair,
May you ever return to my navel:
May we ever be paired.