I tipped backwards off the side
of the boat, and entered the under-
sea world. After we descended
to depth, equalizing 
as we sunk, we finned
along the reef. After the dive master
led us through a coral tunnel
into an open field of loose
Sargasso seaweed, invasives
shifting back & forth in counter-
point to the strong current. 
After half a tank, the waves
turned into a churning belly,
the dive a fight to overcome 
the urge to vomit, to clear my mask
of saltwater. After we passed the giant
lobster, parrot fish, and the poisoned
quills of the lionfish, the clang of metal
traveled as the master tapped his tank
to gain my attention. After I followed
his gesture to look up, I saw the shark
just above me. If I reached up, I could have
stroked its white belly, could have touched
its gray flank. Was I frightened?
a friend asked. Hypnotized by surf
and sashaying seaweed, distracted 
by dwindling air, and the roar of each 
breath, the shark was just another
creature beside me.