The sea, a bit rough.
Just back on the rock you sit in the wind.
Dripping, excited, as if drunk.
And still short of breath.
Slapped and tossed, eyes burning,
you have found your way through.
You have known that since a child:
the brink is quick, it’s easy
to be erased.
Passed the test? Hardly,
but you are out. And alive, now,