Love letter # 334

He sits waiting by the window at his favourite café, looking at his watch. She keeps her phone by her side, wondering when it will ring; startling at anything that sounds remotely like it might be him on the line. Now they both know what most of us come to know – the longing that will not be matched, the lover’s call unanswered.

For you and I this was the gateway to compassion. The dark hour that eventually dawned as the brightness of light.

Could it be that the kiss which never lands is the best kiss ever? Perhaps it is only when we starve that we come to see the true value of feeding. Because when I was alone in the night I woke up to real beauty of your arms around me.

Maybe, through the agency of their yearning, our nameless young lovers will melt down their hard and prideful exteriors and make their newly softened skin ready to receive the next band of life-giving rain. For, as we both know, joy is the bloom of sorrow.

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Love letter # 368

Once we had that classic thing; you know how it goes – you and me against the world. Sure it was a delusion but at the time it was the most powerful and wonderful thing there was. I felt as though somebody, at last, got me. That quirky take on things that was mine – it was yours too. Together we were everything.

Now, when I look back, I am tempted to see the ashes of dreams – but I always stop myself. For that dream is alive. It lingers in the crease of your smile. In the way you look at me. In the arch of an eyebrow. These days we only have it in brief fits. Yet we still have it.

I try to remember this when we’re fighting.

Love letter # 373

This is for all of us – the great unremembered. The ones who shall end in dust.

In this universe of time we are but sub-atomic flickers. In the crush of history, we are the buried empires – the nameless bones – the unrecorded particulars. Less than forgotten. Barely distinguishable from the great nothing.

And when we have all vanished, the world will turn without us – its epic circles bigger than anything we could ever fashion. And it will turn as though we never were.

For we are but the small and lonely watchers. Lonely but for you.

In the shimmering sea of everything, we the tiny swimmers gasp for life – trapped in the cell of the self – looking out to the void – somehow knowing that we too shall be seen. And by that very act of seeing, created.

Just as it was in the beginning – when The Oneness became The Twoness – when The One made The Other in order to make itself.

Because down here in the dirt – in the almost infinitely minute world of you and me – the same great symmetries apply. I am nought without you.

Though it may well be true that eternity moves as it will – unruffled by the arrogant bluster of my striving, deaf to all my self-seeking noise, thankless in the face of all my apparent wisdom – the quiet and graceful mathematics of the universe will be rendered nigh divine by my overwhelming love for you.

Because of you there is music. And boundless beauty. All the nuanced strains of joy and despair. Every exquisite detail imaginable. You, my grain of sand, I shall adore – for in your fragile hands absolutely everything shall be held.

Though I may gaze into a cold infinity of stars it is when I wake in the night – you by my side – that I sense the splendour of things. That I truly am.

When even all of this is ash and silence and we are not even scratches on the skin of time, at least I will have loved you – and by my love I will have apprehended the fathomless beauty. That single, sustained, everlasting note of music which – when heard – becomes the song of being. To which I will have danced with you.

For if ever I am – so too are you.

Love letter # 332

Your beauty is enough to have me doubt my calling. Whenever I am anywhere near you all those fine determinations unravel. Perhaps this is the weakness in me – or maybe it is my salvation.

At the idea of your embrace, my cleverness seems like so much arrogant pretence – for how can wisdom ever compare to a kiss? And when I dance with you – when we swoon – I am only in that moment with you – and there I am free.

It is in the brilliance of the light that I am at one. Without the weight of ideas. Released from the bloated denials of spirituality. This is the wonderful sea in which I float with you. Where I would gladly drown by your side.