At first I was a non-diver, thrust
onto a diving board—

You:

Neither a green signal. Nor a stop sign.
A tiny piece of horizon

left uncluttered
between skyscrapers— I was told to wait

at the broken bridge of your body, walk
to the very edge of the pier

and pause— I was asked
to fix my gaze in the distance

while waves thrashed at my feet & trawlers
blinked their mysteries to me in code—

The delights you brought me O park bench
burdened with possibilities, O conveyor

of imprecise & inexpressible—
In the alcove of your silence

I mastered the faculty of attention,
from the lap of your body,

I taught myself to leap—