To Eleanor. To all of you.

We met at a café and got talking. Then, as one long black turned into another, your story came out. Easier to tell a stranger. Our friendship lasted less than two hours but your words – your resignation – came home with me, where they have sat in my heart like a ring of thorns….

10 years without sex

NB: The original version of this piece was published on our sister blog, As if You Were Listening, and you can check it out here if you wish. However, given that sex, (or the lack of it), is at least partly on a love theme, we thought we would also share it with here at…

The man with the same name

I keep my ex-lover’s secret; safe as the house we once shared. On her side of the bed, another sates the curiosity I now regret. Not her fault. Mine. Did I start it? Maybe, maybe not. I had known for years that it would come to this; sitting next to him, knowing she was marking…

My ten year love letter to no one

The art of the billet-doux is not dead (and neither am I)          You may well ask – with some justification, I might add – why anyone would dedicate themselves to the writing of over 600 love letters across a ten year period without sending any of them. You may also wonder for whom these unmailed…

They are all you

Ever since I met you, I have always known. It is not that they are shadows, nor you their ghostly forebear. Neither do they replace you, or simply stand in your place. They shall not follow in your wake, nor wear thy lovely crown. The shiver of your love shall not be stilled in their…

Watch our award winning ‘meta’ romance!

TWO is an award winning ‘meta’ romance; where the post-modern boy/girl thing suddenly gets very real and the rules of engagement change forever. Love may well be a game – until you get hurt. Because one & one will always make two. Shot in around St Kilda in 2010, this minimalist 53 minute romance was…

Love letter # 548 Realising now. How I miss you. I thought I could walk away, but you are still with me. Coursing in my blood. In truth, you were my sanctuary. Now I feel exposed. Nearly raw. Yet really…it is not you; it is the feeling. I am sure I did not thank you…

Dear Eternity

A love letter to inevitable uncertainty  Blink. A page turns. A new reality dawns. A home no more; soon to be an old address. Photographs. People who will promise to stay in touch but won’t. If once I talked the talk, now I stand ready to walk. Maybe walk the Earth. Who knows. Which is…

Love letter # 534 An old song – one you introduced me to – and an idea. You breathe through the lyrics, and I feel again what I used to feel. The swoon. Your intoxicant promise. In a click I am searching you. What was last thing we said, typed? The slow, email coda of…

Love letter # 524 There is a tension in my jaw. It could be the fear of speaking up. So often we are punished for truth. Yet, if I reside in silence, what will it reveal? I can only guess how you might interpret it. For a state of not knowing is where I currently…

Love letter # 922 You/not you. I/not I. Outlines of a sketchily remembered tryst. Me on the dancefloor. You on the tennis court. A few bright days. Even fewer nights. Your eyes searching me. Was I the one? Were you? No…as we soon discovered. A spasm of lust – lips and hips and hands –…

A surprising NYE café encounter

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” the voice said, speaking without judgement. Yes, she was. The waitress. Young and perfect. Full in flower. In elastic, fertile prime. I was hoping not to get caught, tracing her feline grace as she brought the Cold Drip to my table. As she inclined slightly towards me, and the scent of…

Love letter # 587 In your presence I know who I am; not because you wield magic but because you give me permission. You create space with your acceptance, of yourself and, by extension, of me. Yours is the love that allows, and in that gracious latitude I stretch out, to touch you, and be…

Love letter # 521 If forced to say it aloud, I would say that I did not need you. Did not love you. Nor even want you. Yet, in these absences, space for something undefinable. This ineffable attraction, the desire that will not be reduced to its description. Here now, the mystery that draws me…

Love letter # 667 The bells may not have rung for us, yet you will chime in my memory, like a wave beneath my skin, subtle and buried, but still there. Though you will likely forget, I will house the archive of tender seconds in the sediment of passing days. For the briefest moment I…