Lived to see you throwing
Me aside. That fought
Like netted fish inside me. Saw you throbbing
In my syrups. Saw you sleep. And lived to see
That all. That all flushed down
The refuse. Done?
It lives in me.
You live in me. Malignant.
Love, you ever want me, don’t.
— Louise Glück (1968)
Ferns grow over the concrete blocks that are arranged to slow the erosion of the creek. Trees hang over the water. A fallen branch that almost stretches the width of the creek lies submerged but visible. Wilson watches me as I swim. Wary. Eyeing my movement with concern. I must appear like a zombie in a horror film, contorted and moving eerily unnatural and horizontal in the shallow water. Despite the hum of the irrigation pump and the faint smell of rotting leaves from the disturbed water, this is all pleasant. A reprieve from the house that still retains two days of heat.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3F3Tpm76Tc