September 13, 2024 - “Night swim”

You tell him you want to go in the pool one last time and he says he’ll be your lifeguard. You hand him your towel and step in up to your ankles. You say, look at the moon, at the way the light is landing on the water, and he thinks you are stalling but really, you aren’t even thinking about how cold it is because it looks like a painting, like a picture you are making ripples in, a moment you are moving, and he counts down from ten, waiting for you to go under, and so you walk deeper into the water, tell him the moonlight might turn you into a werewolf, and he laughs, says, what? cocks his head and starts his countdown again. You go under before he reaches zero and think about surfacing as something else. You stand in the shallow end and look at the moon, so close to being full. He wraps you in a towel and rubs you dry as you whisper, goodbye, to the water, the slow nights, to the sort of stars you don’t have back home. Inside, you make your shower last. You are trying to find a reason to stay.