In the swimming pool
she asks for the platform to be moved;
for the teacher to push it deeper, further out.
Her arms, legs, the turning of her head,
once strange pieces of a broken clock,
are coming into line.
She feels the pull for space.
This is how things come together,
falling into place like a penny in a slot,
the last click in the sequence of a combination lock.
It cannot be forced
Our invisible pieces align; we coalesce—
we pull ourselves through life’s blue water
and find we can breathe freely.