Night Swim

  Black sky with sliver and gold stars, and that moon, the face of it looking at my steps. The robe falls to the ground, exposing my pale sking to the cool night air. One toe slowly slides into the water of my pool. Then my entire foot. Then my right foot. The water creeps, up and up, inch by inch, I'm cleansed.

  I used to be afraid to swim in the dark. I was afraid of the deep end, of sharks and bodies I couldn't see. My mother would just laugh and tell me to swim. She knew how I loved to swim. Another playground besides the backyard I would frolick in. I was a mermaid, waiting to be captured by evil humans wanting to expose me to the world, only to be rescued by a kind-hearted man. I lived in my head. I still do.
 
  Except now I know there are no sharks, so I quickly dive into the deep end, letting the water wrap my body, entagle my hair into tiny moclecues of oxygen and hydrogen. I float to the bottom, letting my lungs tighten up. I always wanted to breathe underwater, always testing my limits, but always secretly knowing that I would never be able to do it.
 
  I kick my heel and glide to the surface, catching a much needed breath. Floating on my back, I look up at the sky, the stars, the moon. So serene, so beautiful, so impossible, the sky. The ever-changing, yet ever-permanent sky. A place of wonder and mystery I will always be in awe over.
 
  My hair tickles my arms as I move them to stay afloat. The water frames my face, and even reaches my nostrils as I feel myself slipping under again. I push bubbles of air out of my lips, forcing me lower, lower, lower. My toes touch the bottom.

  When I close my eyes I see the mermaids in their dark elagance, swimming-no-dancing ever so gracefully. Their seductive arms call me closer, enticing me to join them and I desperately want to follow. They call to me. "Nothing to fear, nothing to hide."