Belly Button. FluFF!
Snip.
after the hurried moments of the cleanly cut cord,
The casual "Are you an Innie
Or an outie?" will be
the few times you acknowledge its existence.
In theory, the belly button is an outie
It protrudes, it pops, it bevels as a button should.
But when puberty peeps in and
passes by
The button recedes in wiry weeds
and ho, there we go, we’d forget them
The button crawls down, it sinks in further
into the belly of your depths as it hears-
the knell from the bell of a middle-aged swell
and ballooning of saggy skin
it gets engulfed in your mellow folded-holds
to be seen no more, it grins
with belly button fluff
flows five peals a laugh
lose a button, let your tummy rolls win.
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