Every time you moan, then roll off me and lie on your back, catching your breath, trumpets sound, maracas clatter, and bugles play. Drummers beat and flotillas parade, and masked-and-feathered dancers whirl in the noonday sun. Banners wave and confetti sparkles, and colors light up the ether. Laughter erupts, there’s spontaneous clapping, and I hear crowds cheer as they line the streets.
Every time you moan, then roll off me, lie on your back and catch your breath, the universe bursts forth in jubilation. Tilt your head back, shimmy those hips, and celebrate, World: my baby just might be on her way.
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
Vox populi