I find this lane all to myself and I think of you, I think of the imaginary schools of fish below me and their unshakable desire to swim together for eternity. The patterns they make with their synchronized movement are like smoke signals, the light they reflect against their silver scales. Oh how I’m filled with this childlike desire, this sense of urgency, to hold you by the hand and show you this magnificent display of nature. Because your smile is like an elixir that I want to collect in a tiny bottle. Because I know that our eternity - you and me - is not eternal.

Read more
Filed under:
poolsdeath, love, paris

las piscinas
As I avoid touching the mildew with my foot, an elderly woman asks me a question about the pool closing hours for the sole purpose (it seems) of striking a conversation. She hears my accent. American? She would have guessed Eastern European. She never sees Americans around here.

Friday at the pool︎︎︎ © 2022
(there are other sarah rose’s, but this is the new one)