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.