River maiden

I was born in a big house, a native of heaven, an innocent, but in the middle of the night my mother carried me to the river and released me into its waters. “Swim, my daughter, swim, for you belong in the water. Swim, swim, my little one, for your father is always drunk, and you look a lot like him.” When the waves came over me its blood became my blood. I was no longer an innocent, but I belonged to the river and to the land it baptizes. My mother really loved me. I know she didn’t hold me under. Desperation and grief made the water seem cold to her but for me the water was warm. At night I play with my sisters. We walk through fields and vineyards, and visit rooftops and gardens. Nobody sees us or knows we are there as water drips from our long dark hair.