transformation she would tell us to be achnors every few weeks at swim class. an exercise in breath-holding. my swim teacher wore a cap. she tucked all her hair under the stretchy surface so we never got to see how long it was. i imagined two long brown braids. we were to force all the air out of our bodies & sink to the bottom of the deep end. a class of children turned to stones. feeling the weight of water pressing down on us. i was flattenned like a skate. being under water with out people feels like looking in their bed room window. i watched the other children & noted their pruning toes & their goggled-faces. their hair floating lightly above their heads. they could have been drowned. they could have been dolls. one boy always tried to speak. his voice was eaten by the water. his words streched thin & wobbling. inside myself i felt the urge to open my mouth--fill lungs with water. i steadied. crossed my legs. the bottom of the pool was gritty & white. it could be sand. this could be the ocean. weeks later i would watch blue planet with my brother & the narrator's voice would say that the weight of water deep in the ocean could crush a human body--break bones-- swallow skin. here i was surviving the whole ocean with other children. everyone trying to be the last one underwater. each of us kicking off from the bottom one by one towards the surface. an exudos of angles. i wanted to be last but i gave in. clung to the wall of the pool & remembered how to breathe. my short brown hair dripped across my face & i removed my goggles to come back to the world of air. i asked the swim teacher if she had ever tried this in the ocean. of course she said no but i still pictured all of us there-- sinking for days-- passing reefs & rock formations to reach the true underpining of it all. when the last of us came up we went back to swimming laps. i always wanted more. i wanted to spend class seeing just how far we could all sink. a class of anchors. bubbles trailing from our mouths like chains that might link us to boats.