The stench
of armbands
is a part of my skin
now that I’ve been sporting
them for so long
Like stabilisers on a bike,
after a while it feels more
natural to have four wheels
instead of two. You can ride
without the fear of falling,
but you don’t get to know the
breeze that
hugs your body
as you swerve
around a bend.
It is easier to sit
cross-legged
on the tiles
so that the ceramic
grooves imprint in
red on your ankles,
like an embroidered
pattern of reminders
sewn into your skin,
your own inabilities
worn like socks.
But it’s icy at the edge of the pool.
I don’t want to drown
but
I’d like to know that I could.
Release me
allow me to become the
ocean storms, the salty air,
sting my eyes open with
streams of experience,
pain is worth the
possibility,
Because then,
at least I’d know
how it would feel
to be able to swim.
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