standing on the 10-
meter diving board
the rosy-lean girl
kisses from above the
ochre-yellow youngling,
who reaches his arms
from the stone basin –
she smiles hap-
py that she
lifts him towards her –
he cringes in
disgust that,
he supports
her, so that she doesn’t
fall –
. . . . he lets go,
and the rose drowns
like a fire-ice,
and the boy becomes
late-man and never forgets his own
colour –