They say the shark’s first nibble is one of “what’s up?”
What’s on the surface only he knows, she knows.
Depending on the time of day and on my willingness to notice
it
Light and shadow games with my hands, on the floor
There are triangles and searching for the platonic one
They say it’s one.
What’s up?
Light-hearted melodies, a flute’s tune nice like hoot-hoot
In the mid-to-late night and it’s singing with it
Baby-babe splash and dish it out to go with flavor
Savior in a boat set sail up high
Embrace life,
a round of fingers
gripping thigh
Around and abound bound town, carrying 13lbs of extra with
me today
And other rounds too, you know, you know.
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