“Gatsby believed in the green light, the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter—tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther…And one fine morning—
So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
from The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1925
how could i have known that i would dream of you night after night?
his memory
crawls into
her mind,
winding and binding
and finding a way
into her stilled
and hollow heart
floating yellow balloons
silver buckets of china dolls
tiny lemon cakes
hives in abandoned cars
bucks in the woods
you were then, the age i am now–
i think about this in the dark and
scoop your image from my memory–
your young children will be grown,
your hair, fully silver–
of course when i meet you in my dream later that night,
we are as we were–
and i am desired once again
he dreamt in layers,
in waves–
in the space between breaths,
between words,
between ragged heartbeats
“I awoke and it was still dark. I lay there for a time reliving the dream, feeling other dreams stacked behind it.”
Excerpt from M Train by Patti Smith, 2015
last night i dreamt that i walked into your house
lightly touching the objects on the table,
and realizing that you were sleeping softly in an upstairs open loft,
i took in the sound of your steady breath,
letting myself out of your house
and out of my dream–
wistfully satisfied
there you were, in my dream last night,
and i recognized you,
and you recognized me–
when the night faded into day
and the light lifted us into consciousness–
I was still there,
but you were not
last night, i dreamt of the dogs on my aunt’s farm many years ago, and all of my childhood delight and wonder flooded into my spirit in a tidal wave of yearning
spanishwoods 