Today in summer we brushed knuckles with death and made friends with a waveless lake. I filled my heart with an old fashioned maple and floated on my back popping stiff joints under water because thats the closest mermaids get to fire crackers and I want them to know about the fourth of july.
There is a point of buoyancy when you stop thinking you might not be able to float any longer and trust the water and your body fat to keep you bobbing.
Up..... Down..... Up.
... Down.
Lulled by the ebbing waves of aquarobics and the slow, repetitive laps of flabby arms and side breaths.
