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,/ K_\Fk_\i;i\Xd`eN_`Z_?\@jN\`^_kc\jj When finally Solomon would drop, heavy as a scuba diver from a boat, into sleep, the table fan keeping quiet sentry over his body, he could practice the shallow breath of leaving, push off the bed’s earthly pitch, spit polish his goggles and slip beneath the surface of knowing. The tired weight of himself left twitching against his wife. The bedroom blinds breathing in perfect oscillations, dawn-purple, cool, and slatted as gills. When finally he could upend himself, kick away from this world, follow the jade columns of light down and down to the half-sunk mandible of reef, all molar and bone, barnacle and neon, he could play again, whirl his diminished body in circles, the way he used to tease the neighbor’s dog into chasing its own tail. ...

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