Trying to Swim With God

Istaqfurulah



My mother says this city is slowly killing all our women;

practising back strokes at the local swimming pool.

I think of Kadija, how her body had failed her

on the way down from the block of flats.



The instructor tells us that the longest

a human being has held their breath under water

is 19 minutes and 21 seconds. At home in the bath,

my hair swells to the surface like vines, I stay submerged

until I can no longer stand it, think of all the things

I have allowed to slip through my fingers.



Inna lillahi Wa inna ilaihi Rajioon.



My mother says no one can fight it —

the body returning to God,



but the way she fell, face first,

in the dirt,

mouth full of earth,

air, teeth, blood,

wearing a white cotton baati,

hair untied and smoked with ounsi,

I wonder if Kadija believed



she was going to float.