trimalchio

At the end of your dock,at the end of your world,what keeps you from jumping off?What emerald lights your way homeon those velvet evenings whenyou fall asleep on your own?That will.That fight.The breaking waves inside your heartthat beat you on against the currentof your incorruptible dream.That golden afternoon in her arms,her blossoming beneath you, your worldbubbling 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 bouncedas you bounced for her too,her sunburned words cloaked in satin.That love.That light.The shot rang like her voice but stuckin your chest like hot, bleeding nostalgia.The greatest of men fallhardest of all.Your ripple still pulses through the poolof red, white, and blue.

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