We said we felt
gelatinous.
We were never
quite solid.

But since you left,
I've melted.
I am vagrant bullets
of fake October snow.

I finally have to move
without your glue.
But I'm a man manqué
and stretched too thin.

This is what your absence
wrought on me.
I'm a carbon dated fossil
for a year of decadence.

This is what happens
when snow melts in air.
When it crashes
on the sea.