Sunday, April 20

At the end of your dock,
at the end of your world,
what keeps you from jumping off?
What emerald lights your way home
on those velvet evenings when
you fall asleep on your own?

That will.
That fight.

The breaking waves inside your heart
that beat you on against the current
of your incorruptible dream.
That golden afternoon in her arms,
her blossoming beneath you, your world
bubbling into the modern as she breathes.

That girl.
That night.

She was everything and nothing at once.
She was money and fame and gold.
She was heart and soul, booze and jazz.
The honey of her golden curls bounced
as you bounced for her too,
her sunburned words cloaked in satin.

That love.
That light.

The shot rang like her voice but stuck
in your chest like hot, bleeding nostalgia.
The greatest of men fall
hardest of all.
Your ripple still pulses through the pool
of red, white, and blue.

via *


  1. This is beautiful! Gatsby is an amazing book (I don't feel this phrase does it justice but I don't know how to put it...) and I love how you wrote about it here. Happy Easter!! :)

  2. this is imaginative, insightful and beautiful... I still dont know what keeps ME from jumping off that dock, cliff, well, hill..... I just know it is a very thin thread the one that keeps holding me... any day now.. any day I'm sure will break...
    happy easter doll...xoxo

  3. "bleeding nostalgia"... i really dig that. this whole piece, it's just bursting with emotion.

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  5. your comment made me come alive again. it made me breathe again.
    your words make me breathe

  6. oh this is just great. recently saw the new great gatsby, and i was struck with how vivid the colors and scenes and drama were. this reminds me of the same kind of brightness. lovely.

  7. I love this one. Love. it. I can hear it like it's singing to me. Creating something new from a passion for something created by another before... it's a little like worship, yeah? And it is beautiful.


Thank you for your words; they light a fire in my heart. You are lovely.