Scott Ferry

FIRST BEACH, TALOFOFO, JULY

i glide under the glass—
angelfish / moorish idols / bluegreen chromis
retreating into coral

my body is the invisibility between sky
and sea— magnetized above and below—
i flip supine / eyes upward

i become liminal— bloodmilked
in a womb / saltsong in a sunless light—
pain before / pain after

my nerves the weight of brine
skinrich as love / heavens collapse and resound
along a tight necklace of breaths

my heels bounce off the seafloor—
half-digested fossil and broken teeth—
i keep both worlds— pre-birth / post-death

my wife is a far cluster of stars in a beachchair
my son a goggled ghost in red nylon
me a thin captain between blink and drifting sleep

i am not a deity / a passenger / nor a fool
i have forgotten the names and the math
but re-trace wounds with blue-black wings

i don’t have anything but a pause / a holding
an illusionary loss and gain / and the surface tension
splits all the remaining promises

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