Summer Swim Time at Seven
Warm
on the back of my neck
Inviting
and deceptive
As
my skin curls up, dries out, and reddens
The
sweat dribbling down to the middle of my back
Half
way out of the water
Laying
my head against the cool blue tiles
To
listen to the slap, slap, slap
Of
the pocket gunk trap
In
the corner of the pool
Imagining
it to be a window
Opening
and closing
Onto
another world
I
slip under the water
To
cool off that neck
And
sip in the muffled
Marimba-like
punctuation
That
is of that same comfort sound
Now
on another planet
Blasting
away down in the depths
Lying
on the bottom
Until
I must resurface again
To
do it all over again
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