simple and neat.

I watch her as she dives under water. I sink below the surface, opening my eyes to see her legs shimmering a peachy green, barely deflected by the murky water. She twists her body towards me - just five feet away - and in that distance, I see her wave through the water, treating the molecules of hydrogen and oxygen as if the hydrogen didn't exist. Her laugh bubbles up into the water, bubbles up in the center of my stomach, sends bubbles through the summer.

I come up for air. I smell wisteria.