On growing up

I used to think swimming was for indoor pools

And love was performed as high drama, top volume

I was costumed and chlorine and kept in my lane

And hotels and diamonds were the currency of the heart.

I used to think relationships were supposed to be hard.

I hated cold water, now I chase it, embrace it,

The sudden shock gasp of it, the proximity to fear,

Then the calming, the soothing, the eye of the coot

The rhythm, the crest of the grebe, the wave.

The lake ruined swimming pools for me.

I used to hate monogamy, the mono was not for me,

A monotone monolith I resisted, insisting I was free.

Then deep water found me. The blissful quiet, the ease

of being loved beyond things or appearance. No edifice, no artifice,

Only you, only me, coming up for air, coming home to breathe.