High Dive, a poem

We have to stand in a place, at timesthat feels as uncomfortable as standing on top of a high diveone piece bathing suit, gangly legs,swim cap stuck on tight over French-braided hair.How could you not love this world?This scene, the collective crowd hushed and waitingfor the ding of a count-downfor the arms raised knees bent whip of a body soaringand falling 10, 20, 30 feetthe knife slit entering of body into waterlike a fish so slick and serenethe sting of chlorinated air in your noseas you rememberto inhale again**Draft written during a Wild Writing session with Nina and Sherry.Also, this song is now playing through my head non-stop:[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VyxvYwCH524[/embed]