SWWIM sustains and celebrates women poets by connecting creatives across generations and by curating a living archive of contemporary poetry, while solidifying Miami as a nexus for the literary arts.
The echo is more beautiful than I anticipated: my heart moving to its own rhythm, surrounded by black & white film grain. I imagine a diver with her underwater camera, eyes wide under a mask. The muffled sounds of breath & water pressure. Referencing the images, the tech explains my condition to me incorrectly. He’s my age though & so earnest that I nod along politely, marvelling at the bioluminescence on his screen: flashes of red & green & blue across my grey heart. Signs of light at the bottom of the ocean. My rate steadies, rises, steadies. He tells me Breathe in, hold it, release. The machine makes a noise like a whale surfacing. He says That’s the sound of your blood. In the end, the test isn’t enlightening in the way they’d hoped. I need to come back in two weeks for a bubble study. I make the right noises of approval & disappointment & obligation but can I be honest with you? I just learned my heart is a creature of the deep. I am drifting two miles down, in awe of the radiance.
Hannah is a writer and filmmaker living on the unceded territories of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations (Vancouver, BC). Her poetry is published or forthcoming with PRISM International, The League of Canadian Poets, Metatron Press, and others. Find her on Twitter @hannah_siden or at hannahsiden.com.
