1

i floated
feeling held and safe
connecting with some deep and ancestral comfort
my breath moving me up an down
arms flowing legs beating gently
i could hear my joints click and pop without the weight of the world pushing.

only to hear the clicks and pops of others responding to the joyous freedom weightlessness brings
our bodies in communion, celebrating, despite our awkward half smiles across the top of the water, half-naked bodies hidden
some primordial connection we unknowingly dismiss because it’s almost time to check out.

warmth flows in and around our legs first, then our arms, i wonder how cold it is beyond the glass ceiling
whale songs commence with intermittent crashes of symbols as kids laugh and choke and cry and jump
alone but not at all alone free but tethered to time it must always come to an end

i swim (breaststroke) to the ladder despite the 4.5 ft depth
reaching for the handles I find the first notch with my right big toe
pushing into it is easy as I rock upward then immediately as my mass lifts out of the water it hits me like a punch to my gut like a yoke around my shoulders

gravity, the thing, the force that allows for so much order in our world, the thing that holds everything in place, betrays me, and the freedom I attained
the cool air ripples over my unshaven, bumpy thighs sending my brain signals to dry off, warm up, protect myself
the chlorine smell is somehow overpowering out of the water, burning my nostrils

wrapping myself in two towels and a robe I collapse onto the cushioned deck lounge chaise
meditating on relax, relax, relax but I can’t because I’m a rule follower and want to check out on time (I’m late 30 min)
shower, lotion, t swift, dress, makeup, blow dry (a little), pack, go, go, go, back to life, back to reality. soul to soul. whale to whale. dolphin to dolphin.