Loving the Deep End

Loving the Deep End

Swimming in my trunks
they stick and suction to my legs
as I'm six.

A memory of the few I have
from that time
when I was six.

Feirmont Springs.
Hot though they were we stayed at the hotel pool
coolly swimming in the sun.

We'd sit in the grass
and eat fries
discussing how best to put the ketchup:

on the fries or on the side?

Here I had cotton candy ice cream
tasting nothing like it
but only of sugar and syrup.

But still I got and get it every year I go
even though I'm lactose intolerant now;
how age will deny you.

But at the pool in my swimming trunks
too long
and me jumping in the deep end to swim.

Doggy paddle none other.

My mom annoyed with me
trying to relax
I hanging onto her neck making her drown.

She would pull me off
and swim further and further
as I tried to swim and grab a hold.

But I would tire in the middle
and she would say not to be in the deep end
if I could not swim alone.

My head would depart under the water.

Her knees would bob me back up
and then she would assist me to the shore
and not long after I would do it again.

Looking back I don't know why
I kept going back
to drown and swim to reach her.

All I know now
is I swim the deep end alone
and I'll be here long after.

-Matthew Koutzun