Up above, the skyline's buzzing.
Down here, I’m not being touched or watched.
I'm not anything but a girl in a pool at 4 a.m.,
with lungs full of silence,
and nothing left to strip off.
And then a shadow splits the water.
Brandon's silhouette stutters above me.
I push off the pool floor,
then break the surface,
my hair slicked back, my lungs catching up.
He’s standing barefoot at the edge,
dark hair,
green eyes shining,
gym shorts clinging to his hips,
tattoos inked across his body.
Script on his ribs. Roses down his arm.
A mural cutting across his abs.
His brow ring and lip ring reflect moonlight
as he stares down at me with his hands behind his back,
dimples carved out, grin full of sin.
“Hey, Baby.”
Baby.
My identity’s a cracked mirror:
Allison. Allie. Sonny.
Baby…
I once hated her most,
couldn’t look her in the eye,
couldn’t stomach the shape of her shadow.
But then I took the name back.
NowBabyis the rule.
