memory.

10 years old. visiting my grandmother in ohio, we all went to a large outdoor pool, with a twisting waterslide with very high walls where for five glorious seconds there was nothing but sun beating down on wet hair and water surrounding a slippery body sliding down, down within the walls of this plastic tube where for a moment, it was possible to be anywhere that this scenario could exist. shy and alone, my first experience on the slide was affected by a loud boisterous boy a year or two older than me singing "i believe i can fly" who slid down in front of me, splashing and laughing with his friends. there was something attractive about the skinny freckle faced child and the whole situation and when i heard his name i rolled it around on my tongue and whispered it aloud to myself in the five seconds of solitude as i slid after him, tumbling and falling. there, for those long five seconds i relived over and over until it grew dark, i was not in ohio, i was not with my family, i was another, away, across, in love, someone confident and assured and i flipped my chlorine hair and shook my sunburnt shoulders and said his name again and again.