Kareem.

We laid on the tar of the rooftop, still hot from the sun, our eyes on the sky while it moved, peaking in crests. She said it looked like the surface of some great sea, and we lay on the bottom, watching the waves as they rolled, planes gliding across the surface, dipping in and out of sight, like distant ships. The lights, in the crush of the city, flickered with their phosphorescence, accented by the hums and pops of a living, breathing city. She shifted, and said, you’d think it would feel like we’re drowning, down here- too heavy to swim. A stack of stones on your chest, stealing your breath- she paused, to rest. It never felt that way to us, looking up, floating on the bottom, breathing out, breathing it in.