4.8.09

today i swam three times in the sea.

i awaken with my alarm at 5-20, enough time to dilly dally before grabbing a cup of hot tea to soothe my morning throat and head for the shore. i arrive before kali jones, before the sun.

she comes in red pants just as i-d immagined her and i drive after her into the sea. the air is cold and so is the water as i imagine doing this in november.
the sun appears, an egg on the horizon a basketball stuck in a net then an ice cream cone. kali jones says it looks like the sun. i say an artist should have a better imagination.
we frog kick along, barely above the water, spitting waves, looking down -dont look down!- to see clearly the titanic surface of the moon clad in aquamarine, surrounded in spots by dark blue, black, fifty feet below or more.
we swim slowly a few city blocks and arrive at our accidental destination, la isula di cane, island of the dogs, where legend has it people used to sink in cages dogs they didnt want. the wreckage of the ship greets us quickly and we run aground, mermaids staking claim on our tiny rock island.
the lighthouse, a foot wide, has fallen prey to the sea and left a small foundation in its wake.

the rocks cut our feet, the sea pulls and pushes us with force up onto them and we sit high, surrounded by stalagmites and seaweed, and bleed.