‘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.