smell of chlorine

smell of safety, of *** education, of climbing fences and

scuffing sneakers on concrete steps and

shedding clothes

smell of boy

floating across from me, staring

at my mouth and my limbs.

It is simple for you to walk here.

It is simpler for me to swim.

you are bumping your feet against dead fireworks

left empty on the pool bottom--

diving underwater to find the unfamiliar shapes,

holding them up

in the light of the still-awake apartment windows

that reflect like fireflies on the ripples we leave—

and I am a runaway teenaged mermaid

finding my legs,

learning how to climb out of the glowing blue and walk

when treading water was so easy.