Anselm Fóvea
Ceasing to hold myself up in the water frightens me more than drowning: science says the body floats by default, yet I have spent my life swimming against that grace. Beneath the surface, sounds distort and my face dissolves into what I was before I had a name, floating without being answerable for anything. I emerge soaked and remade, unsure whether what surfaces is my face or its rescue.
