I should have practiced drowning.

        My love, it was as though I froze
        from the outside in, and inside still
        tumbling, still mumbling,
        yes, something out of a book.

I should have practiced drowning.

        I would have known the bite of the hook
        in my cheek, a spitting wince I can’t describe,
        the unwelcomeness of gravity, the spinning
        of the world, my open eyes.

I should have practiced drowning.

        I promise you I would have learned
        to unfold myself in the deep,
        to smile as I let the water
        have its way with me.

        I would have learned
        the quiet posture of the dead,
        the face that reads like a poem
        full of mumbling.

I should have practiced drowning
        so I would know what to do,
        when there I saw you,
        there I saw you

        holding her like a harpoon.