even now all of me is in tatters

My heart and my body were separate,
when I got off my bike, soaked with sweat,
and put my face in the river, an ethereal
dark place full of algae and watergrass.
Unable to keep a tight control over
their coal-black bodies in the current,
a cluster of koi groped forward,
with white, translucent, overworked eyes
searching for something, as a man searches
after going a great distance.
                                            Who were you
that even now all of me is in tatters,
aching to touch your face floating in dream,
defining itself, like a large white
flower, by separation from me?

[Henri Cole {1956- }, 'Fish and Watergrass' from Middle Earth]