How to Survive
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.