Falling in love with you was a kind of melting, and falling out

Falling in love with you was a kind of melting, and
falling out of love with you wasn’t at all like rebuilding
ice cubes out of fog, but rather
evaporation, condensation, and then the rain
once more.

My heartbeat keeps me awake at night
and I don’t understand what language it speaks in so
I put a stethoscope over my chest and plug
it into my laptop, 
but Google Translate
still hasn’t found how to translate water into words,
or an ocean into a novel 
about the back of a whale’s throat.

The heart
is never as simple as a one-liner.

The heart 
is a burning shipwreck under four thousand layers of sea.

What I’ve come here to do tonight is this — 
salvage what I can from the wreckage
so that I can rise again, like a phoenix, into my own
skin.

I touch you and my heart undergoes the water cycle.
Evaporation and condensation, and then
always,

this rain.