Can I ask you this: Imagine you
are not you now,
but instead you bloom
like algae
in the cool flow
of a gentle river. Its steady current
ovals and ebbs, snakes
through the limestone and silica
like it has for
so long.
In this ephemera, you feel
sun,
its true bronze-gold
sweetness: the fresh
river air like a forgotten
memory–
let it encapsulate you
and ride this river,
be algae,
home as far as some distant ocean
home itself
of many rivers, 
where you live as far away as this feeling.
Let me me ask
and take you there.