We all jumped ship a long time ago, didn’t we?

But oh, the night is twinkling—

this walk is magic isn’t it? Look,

our reflections only giggle at us,

pointing with the expectation of

greater laughter, greater love, though

we couldn’t possibly ask for more.

We’re light with the liberating privilege

of being inspired—

of being open mouths releasing

sounds slow dancing on the metallic

reflections of our city.

One day, when I’m asked

“Did you know it was special?”

I’ll say loudly

from deep in my stomach—

where i hold love and anger,

where i hold the fall of

jumping ship,

embarrassingly alone,

the relief of being met with

so many

so many hands of other strange,

magical voyagers—

“Oh my god, yes.”

‍ ‍

-Marinette Gomez, 25’

this day is so gorgeous,

it makes me think of 21’:

sitting here on the bench

waiting for my train and thinking

of Jacksonville Beach—yes,

the littered college town shoreline

had my heart and only sparkles more

oddly each time i remember it…

see, at 6am when the sun was rising

it was empty; clean of footprints

in the loneliest way

and so utterly mine.

so as I sit here looking at the reds and oranges under my eyes,

I can swear the rustling grass are

the curious waves rolling close to my toes,

the weary pigeons are my hungry

seagulls

insisting I share —

and I don’t need to imagine the sky

because look—

the blue is the same blue I’d always seen

when i’d throw myself to the ground,

finally letting the sand in my hair

and under my fingernails.

i don’t care about my clothes or

how i smell,

i want to lay in this sand and be

slowly engulfed in a mass of saltwater and minerals.

in the way my father and i would

hold hands looking out to the

horizon and i’d realize he’d gotten

much shorter—

the sand and water had consumed his feet!

mine were still above the sand

dancing with the anticipation,

the joyful agony of youth —

it was a mystical phenomenon

and when

I asked he said:

“Nature rewards stillness”

to be consumed and loved by the

Ocean was a secret wish of mine.

She’d mineralize my body and

i’d become a shell of sorts for

some small sea animal;

i’ll take the Ocean’s lonely away

and in turn she’ll roll mine into a

foam and i’d fizzle into the air

and into the nose of another

lonely girl wanting to die—

and the child in me will be proud

i helped them live at all.

the Train arrives loudly and my

eyes snap open to the sun,

as if saying

“That was a different time,

look at all of this.”

a pigeon lands at my feet like a

curious seagull and i remember

they’re both birds at the end of

the day.

“Goodbye” I say to it, and to my

memory of my beautifully imperfect

shoreline, my beautifully imperfect

wish of martyrdom in those days.

On the train I look into every eye

I can, take in every unexpected

color. I want to love the world this much all the time. I quietly

thank Nature for rewarding my

moment of stillness this morning.

-Marinette, March 25’

cinnamon toast

“what do you like about her?“

he asks.

i sit for a second,

a flash of her strawberry blond

brushes against my arm

as we lean on each other

laughing like it was

the last time we would

ever laugh

dancing because it’s

Friday night

and we’re still twenty

something

or other

but no other

could possibly

understand

the magic of

cinnamon toast

filling the air

while the downstairs neighbors argue

lovesick

we stand in the

doorway

for hours listening

twisting door knobs until

they fall to the floor

because it’s all

too old

and we’re all

too poor

and we laugh and laugh until 4 am

so eventually she asks if i want more toast…

“absolutely.”

these were the biggest moments of my life

maybe—

sharing cinnamon toast with you

-Marinette Gomez, February 24’