He swam
in the sea
of her moistness-
warm waves,

tide on tide,
her fingers,
shark like,
set about

his flesh as
of fish; -
who else
could swim

as such?
he recalled
the *******
hot finger tips

of her love,
the way
they dived
into waves

of oncoming
passions;
you-
you,

my young love,
he said,
I the youth,
diving, deep,

breath held,
eyes closed.
Where are you now,
my long ago love?

He asked,
in what waters
do you now dive?  
Or are you

in Davy Jones' Locker?
Or are you still alive?