Wrote this one not too long ago, with some modifications:
It feels like decades since I was there.
swaying in the waters,
I'd sunk to the bottom in the sand
but my face
shone with slow light.
She likes to submerge me.
She told me the way my hair twisted below
my lungs breathing hydrogen
was an example of will power.
I was fantastic when no water touched me.
Now I stand in wet leaves,
tumbling around me, confused.
I hear hazy crunches in the fog.
She exists beyond my horizon, and
I ask her to take me surfing.
Take this cold-soak skull-ache away.
She comes like the sun
Petting my head like the sunlight
that rakings through trees.
Bleaching it to gold.
I shiver in her warmth.
I want to swim below the crests,
and strengthen my muscles
so she'll let me grow water wings
that stretch out of my back.
Large, floaty things that are
lighter than water vapor.
From there, I'd fly to the heavens
floating over the wooed angels
as they take my picture.
Everything sewn will be perfectly hemmed,
and everyone will paint flowers
on top of the bones laid in the sun.