"silent dreams with only a bottle / for company" Been there, done that. Far too many times and for far too long.

"loneliness lurked in the courtyards of half / erected towers" Ah, those almost-plans with almost-lovers. The ones that wash away in the high-tide of the morning light. What a wonderful demonstration of those fistulas in loneliness wherein we waste whatever emotion and dignity we have collected since last time.

"...salt / tainted air" We are so used to thinking of sea air as refreshing, but it can be just as corrosive, as well. And when emotions are raw and encounters are fragile, that air can corrode any honesty simply by way of it's pseudo-romantic tang.