As I ride the train east
A falcon swoops to kill a robin somewhere across the bay
Fog, the color of breath, rolls in across the dunes
The smell of seaweed and false cabinets
A stove that never lit
An argument
A seawall
It all comes back

She remembers the birthmark on my forehead
And the salt I could feel on the bricks
Of the building crumbling around the corner
Nothing stands still, my mother said
Nothing beside remains

Sand is rough between the toes
And when hidden in my father’s beard
It reeks of salt

The train screams in the darkness
A woman coughs
And asks me if I’ve ever loved
No, I tell her, but I once got very close
I cannot see her eyes
Nor the book in her hand
What does it say? I ask her
She smiles and says that roses smell like nausea
If you curse the moon

East, East
Past the paved oasis and the leering billboards
Past the faded exit signs and the vacant motel lots
In the corners of my memory
I remember tasting salt on cracking lips
But you cannot see the sunset from the desert
When there are mountains to the west