you never called back.
or maybe you did.
but by that time,
the water was emptied
and my heart crumbled
into a valley of ashes.

i was done swimming
in hope's shallow pool,
which i knew would share in
the pulse of a telephone ring,
if it ever happened.

and i still see your green light
when i turn toward the dock,
but i can see there is a light
much brighter beyond it now,
the yellow of the sun.

to remind me that there is more
than jazz, the emptiness of
liquor left to disappear into heat
and a girl with a voice full of money.

someone once told me
i was worth the whole ****
bunch of you all put together.
for the first time, i think i believe it.