We dive headfirst into cool greenness, arms part
blades with each stroke, legs sweep past jade stalks
that curve in our wake. We pause for watery kisses,
tongues tasting salt and green sweetness.

I could swim here for hours with you, slice through
shining wind-waves as the air rushes above. But you
begin to feel the familiar pressure, the need for breath:
it draws you to the surface with brutal buoyancy.

You explode into air,
suck lungfuls into empty chambers
as I wait suspended in familiar green below. I wrap
fins around your ankles, pull you down into the swell.
I know the short time you can spend submerged,
the necessity of breath.

Small bubbles leave your lips, travel toward the surface.
And I wish for a current to catch you, suck
the mammalhood from your blood.