God Is Swimming

Making whirlpools in the above-ground
on days when the air lays heavy on our skin,
leaving our pink cheeks sticky to the touch.
Abandoning forest green plaid school uniforms 
for fluorescent bathing suits,
revealing our innocent girl-bellies. 
My pool—perfecting the laps—
mastering the water flow,
watching the waves leap out the sides,
smacking the dirt-packed ground in protest.
Holding the blue lining of the walls, glowing,
our bodies keep with the current,
pulling us toward the liquid center—
and one of us lets go