It's Not Like Years Ago, Nightswimming

Each time, it gets harder to leave his clothes in the car. Before opening the door, Phillip’s eyes settle on the photograph taped to the dashboard: four brothers, bare chests and wide grins, surrounded by the moonlit water of the lake.  He’s not quite sure when things changed. He looks through each window, embarrassed and afraid to be caught so bare.  The city lights wink like fireflies in the distance as he stands at the edge of the lake.  His toe breaks the black surface of the water, and Phillip watches as the moon expands in wrinkles.  The lake embraces him as he swims to the bottom to lie, arms outstretched and back against the mud.  The water begins to settle; this is his favorite lens to look through.  For a moment, Phillip thinks about lying there forever, with the stars caught above him in rippled glass.  But his body betrays him, air breaks through his lips and fat orbs of breath carry him upward, into the cold stillness of the summer night air.