It’s true I am a man impregnated. Love is my joy, my burden. I carry it as a woman is with child. I have well exceeded woman’s standard nine months, Carrying for almost four years With every morning sickness comes a new Love sickness, To plague me morning, noon and midnight. Still there are so few words, Despite the passage of time To describe how this Love Is like a beautiful little life inside of me, Growing, kicking me everyday for not letting it be born.