How to Survive

(21)

Swimming always attaches her to joy,

intimate gladness strung from each stroke.

And the water bends back,

its skin—green and blue

textures—full of excitable dancing.

And her muscles remember,

and sensations flock like gulls to a trawler

and her body homes to the element

like a sail boat spearing into the waves

and she makes of her limbs a weapon

to wield against rips,

and salt is champagne on her lips,

and the sea is a feast on this, her second,

sunshiny lockdown birthday.