On Swimming

Purity is clothed in the warm fibers
Of your stunning sigh, your smile,
Your dangerous, death-killing laughter.
I am a stowaway on too poor a ship,
Daydreaming, lost, and delusional,
All that I might feel the sweet vibrations
Of you, the surging, flawless waters,
Beneath my prostrate adoration,
Rocking, swaying, motherlike, love-filled.

One day I'll make my way to you,
When my legs have my will
For a companion, when my fear
Is swallowed, finally overcome,
And you will baptize me, and add
Colors to my laughter, and the fish
Will dance our joy into the underwater world.