diving

When I remember him, I remember him diving. I must have watched him do it a thousand times, but I can only recall one dive in my mind's eye. It must be an amalgamation of each and every dive I saw, and this dive, which is to me the one dive, is the perfect dive. He leaps up and twists slightly before arching over in the space between blue water and blue sky. I refuse to remember him breaking the water.