As the Perseid meteors skitter across the island sky,

we don goggles and leave bathing suits on the shore.


You drag me past breakers until I no longer

feel the sure sand beneath me.


A panicked gasp for air before we dive will never

afford me enough time to marvel at the plankton,


clinging desperately to our hair and masks

like tiny phosphorescent comets.


Your grip may be crushing in the descent,

but I still perceive minute miracles,


creatures striving to illuminate a vacuum

black enough to drink us up.


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