The feeling of

having just finished

a threeway

is

non-mapped islands

You are now in a bed

with two naked

bodies

that don't immediately fade 

And no one

explains the common courtesy

of getting some food

After performing what's known as an

Eiffel Tower.

We throw ourselves

out to sea

With minimal knowledge

of the breeding grounds of tropical fish

or the difference between 

dolphins 

and 

sharks.

And yet

we are expected to pull in

a winner.

A good one.

As if another person is some idol

that is for the 

watchful eyes of a 

matriarch.

Perhaps your trophy is not made of the correct metals

or maybe they lack luster

from years of

neglect

Maybe good old dad will mention that the 'bits' were incorrect.

Threeways are untraditional

They aren't made of polished bronze, that hangs in the cabinet

Or a prize bass

That was consumed long ago.

But a threeway is in essence easy to understand

from the perspective

of not idols

but hearts.