Musings

I wish to be adrift
free of the weight
of even my bones
with skin stretched
between wave and sky
as smooth and countless
as the sand of beaches swelling
up into some portentous mass.
I imagine the silence
of nothing but the thrum
of my unfettered pulse
echoing quietly into the horizon.
The horizon of course, is key
the solution to this puzzle between
the finite edges of myself
and this looming reach of space.
Perhaps between the water and air
the weightless self
can sort and split
redefine the sense of duty
into some more holy joy.
Till then I remain,
half-baptized,
run aground in the tub.