Surely the sky is for swimming.
Kissing the curve, the perimeter:
a pool built for my skimming.
Palms swivel in the breeze,
fluid: an inverted aquarium freeing
soles swirling, upturned.
Blonde was conceived to unfold
strands of sunbeam, concentric
streaming from my acrobatics.
The whirlwind is watery;
somatic craft pauses
within photography: skating releasing
Wheels and blades—transfiguring
imitation to pure ideation:
culmination into liquid motion.
Copyright © by Kevan Copeland