I swam every morning in a lagoon.
My long hair never tangled as it dried.
The sun combed and curled it for me back then.
Leeches kept to their own side of the bog.
Jasmine petals fell around me as I dove.
The man sometimes came to watch me backstroke.
The man never noticed I was naked.
He watched me because he liked the ripples.
We both liked to watch the ripples swelling.
We dropped pebbles to watch the circles form.
These days, he notices my wind-burned skin.
If I swim, he jumps in to grab me
and pulls me under until I’m gasping.