He would velcro his toes to the cement lip
of the pool, peeling them up one by one
with a rip, to dive into aquamarine
aquatic shoe boxes.
He spelt his name like zip-cord
and gene splice and forgot the second
half of the alphabet because he was too
busy dropping noodles on his socks.
After school we bend over treasure maps
and rub peanut butter fingers over trails to
final destinations, while our hair would waterfall
in ribbons of blond and black.