Breathing

The scuba divers threw their bags
on the back seat of their hire car
and squeezed out of their wetsuits.
I saw their arses
as they towel-dried their backs.

I though about what it must be like
to touch the bottom of the ocean
to somersault with seahorses.
I jolted upright
as though I'd fallen asleep in the bath.

The man put on a Nike hoodie
and as he drove out of the car park
seemed to have trouble with clutch control.