My girl is a sea sprite. I’m standing in the surf– frothy waves shimmer like liquid quartz and jade, churning circles around my shins. And she is joy itself, in the form of a child. 

She laughs into the breaking waves, falling into them and allowing them to receive her, and they push back, holding her up and offering their own sudsy celebration. She looks back at me after each leap, eager to share her bliss as it pours from its secret infinite source.

Now she splashes towards me and gifts me with a kiss, squishy and cold on my salty lips, before she plunges back into her element. My feet sink into the silky sea floor and I am held in the most vibrant of places, called now, called Home.