I want us to swim,
In our new bodies,
Which buttress our boney disproportion.
I want the fish to be enticed,
By our old skins
Which serve as useless armour to this world.
I want the cold to be unrelenting,
To our restless hearts,
Which beat inaptness into our beings.
I want the water to cleansing
Towards our tomblike wombs
Which welcome love but reject life.
I want the tides to be shifting,
Until our spineless existence
Take the form of something solid,
Of something like me and You.