My eyes, you said, were like a hole in the universe,
A mad whipped horse's eyes, a pool of disturbed water,
A tear in the ocean, the Bermuda Triangle.
A little bit of me felt you die that one second our eyes met, properly.
Sometimes I see the shipwreck,
The echo of it, your water-logged white-eyed brittle-skinned carcass.
But the water is sunlit now, silent. I like to feel you float along, alone, like me,
And I imagine you are still warm.