Found Poem

What am I like now?
I’m thinking about those bugs that skate on top of the water.
Or do they skitter?
Hell, I can’t think of the word.
I never can any more.
But you know those bugs?
The jerky ones?

Once, I filled my lungs
With luxurious breath
And slipped below the surface.
With infinite time
I circled, languid.
My hair swam past my face
But I felt no need to swat it away.
The current would do.
My words would do.