Each nothing she whispered,

I lost.

Poems she wrote me went missing.

Photos faded.

Her smell was slowly replaced.


I sat in a lifeboat thinking.

It was already hot under the early morning sun.

In the distance I heard the port,

Cranes, containers, fog horns blasting,

Docker’s shouts.

I closed my eyes. My head was ringing.

My trusty boat had borne me through the storm.

Or at least been a comfortable place,

For a drunken nap.

I tried to remember her laugh.


Gulls called in the distance,

Interrupting my fragile efforts.

I crawled over lifejackets, unhooked the canvas cover.

The light hurt.

I probably deserved that.


I wrestled myself over the wooden edge.

The pier loomed below.

Ropes creaked, everything gently rocked.

I tried to lower myself.

Legs dangled, fingertips burned,

Let go.

I tried to remember her hands.


The balls of my feet jarred on the pier,

Rivets and steel bolts.

I overbalanced and fell back,

Head slamming into the hard grey wood.

I probably deserved that.


I tried to remember her smile.


Gulls still called in the distance.

Cranes swung, dockers cursed,

Foghorns ricochet across the water.

I wished I was back in my lifeboat.





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