The girl with her goggles on pouts when the waves end.
You didn’t stay with me, she says. She holds on to my arm,
as we bob in the clear blue water of the pool. You stay with me,
she says. All around us, the high sun of summer makes
everything gleam. We splash and bob until the bell sounds,
and a collective squeal erupts from the crowded pool.
I stay as I have been told. The waves begin, small at first,
and the girl hangs on. And then the man-made surf
thrashes at our bodies, tugs at our suits. I do not
remember her letting go. I remember watching her head
disappear beneath the wave and her smile as she
emerged on the other side before she dove into the next swell.
