Dive

it’s not 

the first time

I’ve pressed my 

frail feet 

off from the deck

of the ship

to arc 

into the dark water

like wine

they used to say 

in the ancient poems

of victory 

the sea is dark

like wine

dark enough

to drown in

I have bared

my heart

like the hetaira 

Phryne of Athens 

and if that fails 

to move you

then we may

both agree that

it is the spirit 

rather than the flesh 

which should carry 

weight 

in our gathering

place