Slippery When Wet

Aug 24 2016

They have a lane to themselves

in the public pool.

They bob lightly

where the bottom drops-off,

feet barely touching

heads up enough

to breathe.

They are kissing and snuggling,

hands fumbling, bodies clutched tight.

An adolescent couple, on the cusp of sex

oblivious to the swimmers

churning through laps.

As if submersion

rendered them invisible.

As if nothing mattered

outside of touch.

How, at least for now

they glory in freedom

from supervision

disappointment

gravity’s relentless toll.

Where the only thing that lies

between them, and fierce desire

is the thin nylon material

that isn’t hiding much.

I know it seems rude

to flaunt their youth so brazenly,

so publicly conduct

such a private act.

But I understand

how it is to be young

and discovering hunger, love, lust

as if for the first time ever.

How it feels to be overcome

by urgency, and revelation.

How the thrill of intimacy

and invincible youth

reduces the universe

to a world of two.

Sexual tension

transmits through water

like an electric arc;

her near nakedness

exciting him,

the firm heat of his skin

has her tingling inside.

I swim by, turning to breathe,

and get a glimpse of bodies suspended

arms and legs enmeshed.

Through the stagnant pool, my fogged lenses.

The turbulence

where water meets air.

I swim regularly in the pool, and this isn’t unusual to see on a Friday night:  a teen-aged couple getting hot and bothered, and so absorbed in each other that all self-consciousness evaporates. As if submersion rendered them invisible. I can see how such intimate behaviour in a public place could be seen as rude and inconsiderate. But I can also understand and excuse it. 

I think the narrator here feels a mix of admiration and envy. And I wonder if the final stanza is as much about repression and denial, and maybe regret, as it is about the laws of physics.