Wondering, As Frothy Masses of Bubbled Soap Traverse Mine Body

Haunting and haunted,  These visages with lacy, saponaceous curds Depending and plummeting,  Do I on the pebbled porcelaneous integument  Of the whitish shower floor scrawl.  I wonder, as frothy masses of foamy, bubbled soap In the shower traverse mine body and ripple and course  Undulant across my sinews, driven by the pound and pour of the  Plunging, cascading cataract of pressurized shower water.... I wonder, I mull and I ponder over the  Accounting, the tally, the sum total of those  Ephemeral faces by soap and pressured water engendered: Those ghastly and spectral faces which precipitate  Diluted, water-blasted soaps have, in  Soppy, splashy, soap-lashing  Depositions on that pebbled floor atop of which I stand (Or did when the inspiration for this poetical work mine Did, whilst erectly bathing, occur to me) Yet how many multitudes of these  Through the course my myriad bathings and showerings; How many of those horrid, demonical, haunting and haunted  Physiognomies did I of a moment  Indirectly will, if you will, into being- Even whilst the shower coursed pluvial and pouring waters thundered all around?