I dreamt the pool was full of names

I was standing at the edge, and the water wasn’t water—just a slow-moving list of names, all in lowercase, like they’d been whispered into the deep. No one swam. No one spoke. I reached in and pulled out one: 'Amira.' It didn’t float. It sank straight to the bottom, and the surface didn’t ripple. The silence wasn’t empty—it was full of things that never got said. When I woke up, the echo of it still hummed in my bones.