there are memories that move with you, and there are memories that don't move, that lose vitals but leave a residue that fades in detail but spreads intensity. someone said something, was it in a film, or a book, directly it became part of my water. displacing water and immersing memory. hot roots, exposed. felt anxious on land today, the orange fences, a maze, the brutal bulldozers, mindless metal minotaurs threatening. had to lay down in the water. the girls saw me swimming behind mister, holding his body and moving paddling my legs. they called us merdog.