Sufjan Interjects Again

What makes a belly good is not its girth
—sneezing the sneeze of short snouts—
Or its ability to be disguised by an empire waist
—snorfling into my armpit—
But whether you can lay with it exposed
—careening through patches of tall grass —
Inviting adoration or showing submission
—nearly rolling off the bed or stairs—
And either way trusting the flesh to be exactly enough
—closing alien-large eyes to better feel
the relief of short nails on furry, imperfect skin.