Slow motion

If we walked underneath the waves

we’d be fluid and graceful

like poetry we’d move and bake our bread

but if we were late for an appointment

we’d miss it altogether

or get eaten by a shark

with black eyes and beautiful rough skin

and he’s tell his friends

“I ate the most lovely moving creature this morning”

we’d sigh in the darkness cradled by his ribs

but we’d be happy to break his fast

if we were together

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