It was here that I first taught myself how to do an underwater somersault, first swam in deep water, and first learned how to point my toes, hold my legs together and kick out in a way that made me feel powerful. Our shared language was food. Big invisible currents surge up from beneath, rocking me closer. Here, we spent hours pretending to be mermaids. I stared down at the current and used the rhythm of its flow to regulate my breathing. The answer lies somewhere between. Almost two years later, in a different city, I was near a body of water when I received a phone call from my mother to say Po Po had died. The further out I swim, there is a layer of clear, molten blue.
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