The pool is outside of my apartment window.
It’s running, and nearly clean,
But not open.
I’m moving out in a week or so,
and damn, will I miss that thing.
Not to get deep,
but I’ve spent some of the best moments of my life in that pool.
Both recently and six years ago.
No funny business
Just fucking fun.
It’s crazy to picture myself six years ago,
laying in the grass just across the courtyard
(damn that grass is fine),
Big red Regina curls,
Reading Tori Amos’ biography
(it was tantalizing).
Just last week, I laid in that grass,
and read the Selfish Gene (Dawkins).
Months before, we did pencil rolls on the hill for an hour.
(We won’t speak of what on)
I don’t know what the next months will bring,
But my anchor and kite are equal.