Cliff Divers

First published in Ghost City Review, May Issue, 2020

Flinders Beach

It is the season of chafing
and Vaseline shared between
thighs with nervous palms
 
We hear the hiss of water
dragon’s claws lacerated
through dead leaves
 
He moves away too quick
for us to catch a glimpse, darts
off cliffsides but the sound lingers
 
These rock faces are harsher against
our hands than they were last year
far less gentle than past summers
 
Their momentum crushes
sinking heads like brown grapes
as we hurl ourselves face-first
 
off their crowns. I first caught
her face beneath the water, felt
her hair cling like thrumming
 
fingers of a jellyfish around
my face. Her eyes licked red
as the tongue of the water
 
dragon we never saw. I moved
away from her quick enough
to be heard but not seen.