No Exit (Poem A Day Project)

On this late afternoon, a yearning overtakes me
when only my eyes and nose stay dry as islands
in a plenitude of liquid and heat,

all the rest submerged,

thighs bobbing, hair spiraling 

like seaweed.

The radio makes noises my flooded ears

have lost sense of, 
steamed skin, cooked bones.

I feel a self disperse, float high
into insubstantiality, into delight

into the last drops of density 

light the window with haloes,

push gently against the glass

ready to make a graceful farewell 

when there's a knock

on the bathroom door, 
a chill in the water

and the noises from the radio 

make perfect sense again.