Losing a friend is a river of grief
you think you can evaporate

over a bottle of gin
and someone else’s company,

but you can’t. It
never goes for good.

The worst thing about it all
is that

I knew you were
gone

and you didn’t even know
you’d left -

two ships, one night and
a quiet, shifting sea.

And then some unsuspecting day,
after watching your own

suitcase roll solo round the
carousel

you find yourself
down Paradise Alley pouring your

late night ramblings into
the drippy February heat

with someone
you want to tell your secrets to -

and you realise
something new

can last forever
again.