On the boat from Haiti I died –

I died from the letters that drifted into the ocean,

melted into the water.

I died as the ink washed away

page after page of words

I wrote you.

I died at the thought of you –

alone – never knowing, truly

how much I loved you.

The truth is

I died the moment

I caught my last glimpse

of you.

 

On the boat from Haiti

I was a ghost

lamenting my lost love.