Was there

Consider. We enter the sea with a shock; our skin and blood shout in protest. But, that instant, that leap, past, what do we find? Ecstasy and buoyance. Swimming offers a parable. We struggle and thrash, and drown; we succumb, even in despair, and float, and are saved.

--John Updike, "Lifeguard"

Knowing

You've seen how

my ankle heals for the past

week, and before then.

The bites on my wrist,

blanket in the grass

and bugs. Consider.

Your weight is a will

in me, wait for me to hear

you, can you save the

slum in me. I have a trying

sense in nothing, staring, leaving

for my back to hurt and happen,

I hope this will happen

is how I don't need to think. Make.

How we work is a swell between our hips,

solid froths of palm

leaves in the pool, sense, and I know

you are here. Here is my neck,

my hairline, swift shape up

through my thick so

I can sleep when you are near,

have a heat in my blue toes

and you will have my feet feel

skin, unclasp your tongue.

Isolate in my hair as an eye, or in,

I can turn my way out, speak

clearly and stabilize the hum,

know you'll hear it. You're

sleeping in my room.