Wednesday, December 13, 2017

My mother’s husband tried to drown me in the bathtub.

He didn’t know how I amazed my friends by holding my breath longer than anyone in the pool at the Saint Mary’s park recreational center where hallways are painted with the images of Marvel superheroes like Captain America

Not ready to breath water, my brain flashed exit strategies until it settled on one:

PLAY DEAD

The boy I was went into violent convulsions and then lifeless in the waters. And that horrific scene made my poor mother’s spouse let go of my neck and run out of the apartment with an awful shriek into the streets of The South Bronx. 

I stood up on golden sands of Orchard Beach, The French Riviera of The Bronx, and pulled down my first diver’s mask purchased with money I made from shining shoes opposite a newsstand next to The White House, a supermarket on Prospect Street.

 I walked on water before a galaxy of an ocean made me feel the power of flight span wider than the white wings of seagulls in shades of blue skies.

The waters washed over memories of belt lashings on my back and healed me from the brutality of gangs, police, politicians, bullies jealous of my grades, drugs and addicts in burnt out buildings and other social ills spoiling a beautiful planet.

As the boy I was flew deeper into a part of Heaven on Earth called The Atlantic, he heard the sea sing like angels in songs never heard by human beings. Not a word. Experience.

Freedom.

This is freedom

I was free.

Freedom to find Atlantis

How poetic I’m Aquarius

The Water Bearer

To Be Continued


Copyrighted Art & Text & Photography By

 DAAD/ Daniel Angel Aponte Dreamer 2017

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