When I was sixteen sun-dazed and shining
I dove feet first into
the Pacific,
and was swallowed like a pill.
The water boasted cobalt skin
but under her hips
black was the prominent chemical color.
Before I hit the toes
of the archipelago
there was that moment of war:
a violent waltz of water and air
clashing to push me out
then to bring me
down.
there was only ocean.
the warm Pacific palm
clutching me like a marble.
The soles of her feet were sandy
and her hair was full of islands.
Her tongue was bright with summer-
her heart- full of salt.
And she let me pass through her like an apparition
my smoke drifting around her ankles
in billowing dust
My body an afterthought,
collapsed by shadows-
my eyes were left staring into the wild sapphire Earth.