Shipwrecked

By Katherine Meikle

Losing him was shock to my system,

a trap door out from under me.

Losing him was realizing the image I saw of us 

was only the twisted distortion

of a circus mirror. 

Losing him was shattered pieces in my skin,

confusion in the dark, 

sweeping up remains, and starting again.

I still find glass under the sofa sometimes. 

But losing you… 

Losing you was like wearing a precious pearl, 

a bracelet forged from pain 

into something rare and beautiful…

Like me. 

Losing you was making all my favourite memories, 

in fragile, floating, paper boats

on waters 

dark and deep as your voice.

Losing you was watching helpless

as you slipped off of my wrist into the sea. 

And now 

I write letters I’ll never send,

keep my messages in bottles,

knowing the treasure of you 

is still there, 

but I’ll probably never see you again.

By Katherine Meikle