I am a child.
My head shoved into the water.
I thought I’d never get out, be released,
From the pressure
Of her hands,
Whilst I needed to come up for air and life.
Her weight on my body,
Her timing so bad,
She failed to see me struggling,
I wanted to use my force
To make my agony as blatant as possible,
And she shoved and shoved.
I have respected water ever since,
The enormity, the calibre, that it can swallow me whole.
I made it to the surface.
My heart too.
“Portrait of the Duchesse de Châteauroux as Thalia, Muse of Comedy” by Jean-Marc Nattier (1685-1766)