Hotel Pool, 2 PM

By PRIYANKA VORUGANTI

 ©Katrien De Blauwer

©Katrien De Blauwer

Foreword

I'm eight, and I'm swimming in a pool. I'm in Georgia. I'm alone. My dad is somewhere doing work, and my brother is at the other end of the abyss. I'm kicking my legs. The other eight-year old girls are kicking their legs. I can kick like them, but something is always off. I try to kick my left leg. Nope- I kick my right. No- it's not the same. It's not working. Their kicks are different. I look down, and my legs are a cloudy outline of BROWN through the water. The suntan lotion is falling off of me as I shake my limbs, but not the BROWN. I kick, I kick, I kick. Flecks of white, falling right off of me, drifting away from the BROWN. It's 2 PM. I'm kicking.


you’ll find me poking crescents in the

 

FLAILING | CALVES | WHITE

 

these really pretty girls swimming around me

can’t you just cut your damned nails!

 

CHLORINE | WASH (RUB)

 

your marks will go away.

they’re just waning moons yet mine is all over &

 

SLAP | ITCH | SOB

 

as a human I leak, it’s no big deal- it’s

not working, it should be washing away

 

TOWEL | SUN | TAN

 

it’s reverse suntan lotion it’s called self-hate 

it’s called

 

WASH IT ALL AWAY.