Cold Water

alone I sat there in the sun , , , still alone I floated quietly to sea, buoyant but cold . . . they were unquestionable strangers . . . I felt the pins coming out, the stays loosening . . . there were titties jumping up and down again at the wave-edge, a bubbly pair of damp girls moving, splashing, at last turning away and pivoting with great shining hips and rumps . . . even the seal seemed interested , , ,the water was cold as a trench . . . it pays to remember . . .just as it is unheard of . . .the actual time will vary depending upon currents, wind velocity, and depth . . . a rough seabird glanced over and peered into my eye the way a drunk housepainter swivels atop his ultimate rung to ogle the pretty naked thing running up to, and being intimately drenched by, a spray of diamonds that settles into light . . . she is clothed so fastidiously in salt that each wrinkle is a deft statement of ethics, that is to say honest and primeval , , , but the lust one has counted on through decades of repetitive strain may not actually work this time . . .rolling over backward and encountering floaters of kelp, a skirt of sea cabbage drifting infinitely slowly toward some obscure destiny, not unlike my own . . . there were no sounds at that depth, only the soft memory of voices left behind by the splashing girls, who seemed to have no troubles to weigh upon them . . . ordinarily I would never have done such a thing, and certainly never for that long . . . my balls had receded into some ontological crevice and left me defenseless but not without courage against the light that turned into spiraling shapes as it