Florida Poolside

She
is a pale toothpick,
then crescent moon,
slender & seamless
in February sun.
I am gathering
her brightness
with slow unblinking eye,
how, for a moment,
she touches her own
fingertips, & cascades
into herself, enveloped
like a torn napkin
in shattered water.
I know when her
eyes surface to mine,
clear the chlorine
with her hand’s heel,
I will never
see her again.