When she died,
I thought I had an ocean in my eyes
an ocean that would never dry up
no matter how many salty tears it cries.

Years passed.
The wound sealed.
Somehow I lived.
My innards steeled.

Yesterday I cried again
the ocean in my eyes spilled
the taste of tears on my lips
not salty but chilled.

Maybe my eyes
have cried out their ocean
Rather what I tasted
was steely ice in motion.

Maybe it is in the normal order of things,
to turn from ocean into glacier.