Day 2: Love in Books – Gatsby

It starts with a borrowed house full of books and a parrot and a piano. Then it spills over into best friends in gowns and a graveyard picnic. Books, like cemeteries, are liminal: we walk through their gates and back out again, altered, touched by the diaphanous flutter of invisible wings.

Prospect St. Seattle, 1984


 Prospect St.  Seattle, 1984.  Girl-child leaning on a pole marked Prospect.  Languid like the curve of the cornerstone. Eyes downturned, passions curbed for the time being.  Loneliness leaving pock-marks on the present and the future firmament.  Meeting glamour with hands in pockets.  At some point there will be a sense of deja vu; this thing that I am doing I surely attempted before.  Is it a boon that I cannot remember my failures?