Nothing reduces you to your skin like the sea – cold
plunge into reality, a tongue already salty & all that power
self-propelling you through our other element –

body loving every pummelling second as your mind slips
on the (no wonder) Madonna-blue beach wrap of the sky.
The straightest line imaginable just over the breakers,

visibly separating the two, doesn’t exist.
You do. Yet, can you hold a handful of salt water
to prove it for just one moment before you go.

from Dante’s Heaven (Puriri Press, 2006), © Jan Kemp 2006, used by permission of the author.

Jan Kemp in the Poetry Store

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