Water kills by volume
filling space, forcing out air,
extinguishing breath
but also by weight
and as I sit alone for a snatched moment
on beige bleached rocks
strung out like forgotten connections
and watch the False Bay breakers
heave and hurtle their way in
I see an infinite weight out there
thumping the table
like a beast aroused, flinging itself
translucent white, blue-green mirages,
driven from the south
irresistible
and I see how fragile the truth is
easy to drown
even easier to bury
> A poem from South Africa, ten years ago