A sonnet for "Her."
Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald
You’ll probably never understand why
I didn’t answer the phone when you called.
To tell the truth, I don’t quite know if I
Can convince myself, or explain it all;
Just hearing your voice would shatter my will,
Breach the brittle walls I’ve built, and remind
Me that time brings no solace; I must still
Tiptoe through the mindfield you left behind.
I believed in the green light, oft’ seeking
A future in the past; though I’ve proven
Unable to seize either, as creeping
Doubt numbed my soul and left my heart barren.
I can not trust, nor let present hopes stir,
Because I’m still in love with who you were.
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