You took like a mermaid to that damn water, legs poised together and flopping out every so often like they were made of one big tail; scales and all. Mom says it all the time, running her fingers through your hair—it doesn’t stop, keeps going over your tits and to your bellybutton, falling down your back so it can be related to boat metaphors. A modern Shelley come to life in water and humanity and melodrama. The great tragedies of your life.