By the Pool
His finger traces the length of my spine before his shadow lengthens, falls on one side of the towel. The voice is overhead, far away.
I’m going to swim
I go on lying flat, face buried in his shirt, listening to bare feet receding on the tile. A faint slicking noise of water; a heavy scent of oil and flowers.
I get hotter.
Tightness on my naked shoulders. I should be careful of burning. But I can’t move. It’s like the sun is absorbing all my energy and then distributing it to others.. Leaving me in the dark. Cold. Fatigued. Lonely. The watch on the corner of the towel says almost noon. Fifteen minutes. I am sticking to the blue loops. They make marks on my stomach.
I peel away from the towel, turn as I stand. The pool is very bright in the sun. Disconnected limbs come through the whiteness. The cries of annoying children: ripples slither along the surface.
I am vaguely uneasy. Shivering.