sometimes they’d be there other times they wouldn’t in the retention pond we learned to swim in where you almost drowned that one summer now there wasn’t swimming anymore or summer but there was salvation in the liver spotted hands of television messiahs who said the clouds could rain down the fortified wine blood of a savior we never knew or didn’t care to know though the pond seemed to grow more shallow every year because the blood never came and we still got our buzz from the gas station that also sold nails for crucifixion though they never did pierce a hand or a foot and mainly held up the treehouse dad built before he left we’d wade in anyway because it was better than being dry and sometimes when the water seemed to heal our skin that seemed to never scab because sometimes it was easier to go under than stay afloat