He steps outside to let his head unfold—
a rusty flower hollow with alcohol.
Again the earth refuses to open for him
only water soaks through to her distant bones.
Her soundless memories return & all he does
is hunt them down one by one: chimeras
once attached to flesh & blood, now empty
as the bottles that pile up at the door.
He could walk forever through this bitter rain
with her by his side, but he sees for the first time
how you can lose those you love not just once,
but over & over again—the heart’s undertow—
so he drinks & drinks, in search of that drowning calm,
but time is a one-way street he can’t turn back,
only look in the mirror as she climbs into that car
in the rain going to a distant beachhouse