A fish in water

(a poem for type C anglerfish rising from the abyss)

disturb the surface of Narcissus' pond
and you may find me, looking up
a gaping guppy with unblinking eyes
bubbles rising from my open lips
popping words through the surface tension
knowing not whether the face I see beyond the glimmer above
is fascinated with me
(scaly, wet, swimming in circles)
or its own reflection.

dip your hand, stranger, and discover --
am I a big fish?
is this a little pond?
gills breathe easy down here
and I slide into all the right corners and crevices
slippery to the touch.
if the light catches the water just so
you'll look so beautiful;
perhaps it's your eyes that will convince you
or perhaps it is my lidless stare.

god forbid a flash of tail break the surface
or worst of all
I leap into view
in full fish glory, uncaring of the stink of pond
that will linger on your shoes for days
splashing on my way back down
having tasted air that burns
and seen daffodils growing in the shallows
before returning to gobbling mosquitoes
and whatever else you prefer to think of me
when you cannot see me.