every whore gets into heaven

gifted a stolen gardenia to my dream girl and kissed my penpal on the lips tonight

my first memory is the deep end of the community pool. i was too young for school, and my mom hoped i would entertain myself while she sunbathed. i didn’t yet know how to swim, but i did know i wasn’t supposed to get in the water without floaties. my fat little toes were burning on the concrete, ten pink starbursts. i needed relief. mama wasn’t looking, so i ran to the pool’s edge and i jumped. the water is what i remember most. halfway between the surface and the bottom, it held me in its cool and quiet blue. though i knew i couldn’t breathe, i wasn’t afraid. i felt safe suspended in that stillness, somehow filled with perfect peace despite my empty lungs. the feeling left as suddenly as it arrived when s stranger dove in after me, their strange hands ripping me from my peace. i was furious, but too small to fight their grasp. who was this person? in my memory they have no face. but i remember the rage at being pulled away from my new home in the blue. i never could have stayed in the water, i would have drowned. but i’ve spent my whole life of learning to live on land trying to get back to that feeling.

where there is love there is enough