I enter the ocean the same way I always do,
with legs that wobble a bit on the rocks
in that human way legs do.
And then as I lean forward
the massive robe of cold water
wrapping around me,
I am suddenly no longer human
in that way where everything else
is categorized except us.
I am nameless under here
just another shape,
partly terrified
by the anonymity
of the sea
partly exhilarated
by being stripped clean
of words.