round momma cesària

Donde Esta my body? I look in the mirror, I see my face, my arms, my legs, my hands, my feet… hmm still there, still the same. In my center… hmmm holy fucking jingle bells.
I am the moon and for the first time in my life I have big ol’ full moon boobies. I have an affinity for round things like never before.


I once read by controversial architecture Paolo Soleri, the father of Arcology that our experience of the world is directly influenced by the form we are in; thus a big chiseled jawed German male with edgy muscles and Bigfoot imprints will experience the world as big, rough, woody, and hard. He will even like those experiences says Soleri. 


Some of the fiercest and feistiest folks I know come in super tiny packages so I am not totally convinced of his philosophy however I do find that in pregnancy I crave softness, cuddly objects, round bodies of water, oranges, bouncy balls, the moon, eggs, and Queen’s song « Round Bottomed Girls. »

This boat does not give heed to too many of my round pregnant ways. I need more roundness in my life. 


I guess I can find new forms of roundness in this rustic boat life. The waves are round and definitely not jagged (except when they wrestle the boat back and forth like we are lottery balls). The hull of the boat is pregnant with us and all our stuff just like my juicy belly. We are traveling around the world; floating like feathers on round Mother Earth’s curvy blue surface. The jelly fish that light up the sea for a nano second are grand circular nebulas oozing with their electric round. The shimmering stars are round to my eyes; rounding out my dreams and restless cold nights. We are now one day away from Sao Vicente in Cap Verte, the land of the round goddess Cesària Evoré, I feel her plump bosom hug awaiting me as we sail into her land. 


Momma Cesària, I am 32 weeks pregnant, my hips ache from an untouchable inner land, my belly spheres out hoping to touch the moon, my uterus contracts rather regularly with a pang for softness and a spacious round place in which to twirl my Son. Everything hurts Momma Cesària…
Can you feed me some roundness please? Can we orbit together around the soft earth while you sing me Besamé Mucho, I cry sloppy elliptical tears, and you nourish me with oval mangos and over-ripe tomatoes?


Momma Cersària, por favor 
Quiero sentirte muy cerca
Mirarme en tus ojos
Verte junto a mí


Por favor Momma Cesària