I come early
before sunscreen and sand
precipitate over miles of skin,
before portable nets
catch spikes and volleys
of sunlit sound, a cicada cadence
in summer heat. I seek
the closest thing to winter,
to feel the chill
of water unravel warmth
from between splayed fingers
and treading knees,
while the ocean teaches me again
that submergence
is the allowance of one body
to inhabit another
even if just for a breath,
the width of a rib cage
expanded.