Ringless now, she lifts her hands
above her head; weightless, she
dives into crystal aquamarine,
no longer afraid of deep cobalt blue.

Exploring the depths, while white egrets
form a coronet of glory above her in the sky,
she plunges into dolphin dreams,
her breathing becoming relaxed.

In and out, in and out,
she is cognizant only of her breath
and the fire coral that will burn her skin
if she gets too close, and the brain coral

willing to correct the mistake
with its cool soothing gel if she does.
She emerges, breaking the surface,
famished, ready to be nourished.

The waves batter the rocks
with unrehearsed passion,
the prior day’s storm a legend.
The air, still wild and untamed,

licks tequila and lime juice from her breasts,
tastes the papaya, split open, bursting
with mysterious thick black pearls.
The salty taste of ceviche and cerveza

blend with sea spray, attempting
to cool her desire. The hard,
sun-baked lava rocks press
against her back, leaving their mark.

Lying bare between the swallows
and the sea, she is a priestess,
descending into heaven;
heaven: a cool wet dream.

Arms arched above her head
she  dives deeply,
succumbing, alone,
to a dark and ancient appetite.

Dianalee Velie is the Poet Laureate of Newbury New Hampshire She is the author of five books of poetry, Glass House, First Edition, The Many Roads to Paradise, The Alchemy of Desire, Ever After and a collection of short stories, Soul Proprietorship: Women in Search of Their Souls. She is the founder of the John Hay Poetry Society.