Reflections in the Bathtub

My face looks back at itself unimpressed.
Parts of me disconnect and swim away.
On the shore people, onlookers are waving
Me off, paparazzi, well-wishers, they hope
I will survive but hide a desire in dark parts
Of themselves that the sea will swell up,
Overtop my senses and consume me;
My senses are swamped except the sixth,
That confirms I am an aggregation of people,
A plural being who can only exist with purpose:
I rest at home as a presence providing security,
I hunt in stores for staples and essentials,
I call to my lover from the living room floor,
I am a bare-naked soul with painted nails,
And a mind filled to the overflow; yes,
They hope I will survive but only through drama.
They need stories in their lives.

One day, I will dive into the jade sea and not return
Swim north, until I am returned by ice,
Then return with kelp and seal meat for tea.