Offshore

Pull neoprene over yesterday's swimwear,

smear spit over goggles. Back-roll

into the churn, signal - you're ready

for the ocean. No coral gardens, no black tips

slicing the rocks. Vertigo,

infinite blue. Tip your head back, let bubbles

dizzy home. A crescent of silver, the split-smile

of a dolphin invites you to stroke her flanks.

Current ejects you like a cork.

Rip the regulator, shout

how she swam away, back thrusting

arched lines of an aqueduct.

A boat's prow cuts the swell,

arms reach down, haul empty tank

and you - slithering

back in your drunk skin.

Tigi Syme