‘At Sea’
He dives. Can hold his breath a long time. Thatha has passed to him this knowledge
long ago. Strange boats in the harbour, water undulating, currents colder by edges, these steel flanks he has no words for their size, the fullness of space they occupy. He dives. Hands and arms funnelling new ways into the water, embedding himself in its weft, each stroke new, striking patches of flesh water that hasn’t before known human touch, but now they are close
like lovers, grey flanks a shadow blocking sunlight, making stink in this clear depth, and noise, the men above pale and faceless. He dives. Is not diving for anything except this touch, freedom this love for life and days
and bodies
the beauty of skin.