I deny you by daylight. But under even the thickest veil of skin, I feel you swimming through the rivers on the backs of my hands, I see your fins when you breach and surface in the soft pockets of my elbows. You are an unhurried ancient thing, evolved for this slow stalking underneath the surface. You luxuriate in the laziness of your movement. Because in the end, you know the night favors you. Because in the end, you know I will, too.