swimming lessons

on parachutes. on chlorine-bullets. on the element
[Ne]3s^23p^5 as the MOMA’s newest exhibit.
on how the chlorine-bullet finds a home
in my vehicle-mouth. open, i think,
& the sky tilts for me, feeds me
with rain. above, the white-board glows
like an angel, death hiding
up-high, one-eyed guy
all stoic & smart. go, he says, & the lanelines push back, uneasy,
thinking the moon is too close.
isn’t it. isn’t it all. & i pretend like we’re fishes.
the way the light serrates us,
& i am just a refraction.

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Cici Zhang is a sophomore at Gunn High School. Her work appears in Eunoia Review and Aster Lit. When Cici isn’t writing, you can find her obsessing over Pinterest moodboards or her cats.