Reunion
Her feet dangle I'm holding her so tightly, and not because I loved her once but because it's been so long. She hugs her legs around my waist, tells me to carry her. Outside, we slip out of our clothes and into the deep end. The water isn't so cold that it's shocking but it's not as warm as it was this afternoon, when I was alone and wondered how I'd spend the night. She corners me. I tread toward her. She dips and resurfaces between me and the wall. I turn. She hooks her elbows on the concrete, slides her thighs around my hips, tightens her grip until I'm suspended, my arms around her neck, my feet not touching anything. Other than our waves, their slapping noises at the shallow end some thirty feet away, the night is soundless.
