Category: Philosophical

  • Love letter # 203

    Today I have chosen to forget you – or at least to appear as though I have. No mention of your name, though I hear your voice inside me. No inkling of a tear, though the river runs firm and strong in my veins. I ache to burst the meniscus of my silence, yet stay…

  • Love letter # 136

    There is a door inside me that opens onto a world we once shared, with its secret geography and private jukebox. This street. Its bars, its late night revels, its kissing in public – and those records – our lovers’ soundtrack still playing. All of it so alive. Still visceral beneath the eggshell skin of…

  • Love letter # 173

    Ah, the lottery of DNA. Upon some are bestowed all the natural graces, from others they are withheld. Some are effortlessly lovely, others toil at approximation. Of the two of us, we both know who is who. So please – do not walk that way – do not look like that. For yours is the…

  • Love letter # 152

    Time having passed, things are clearer. You were running – from ghosts, from anything that reminded you, and I was the dumb bind holding you back. The more I loved you, the more you fought for what you took to be freedom. But now I understand – the freedom not to see is still freedom.…

  • Love letter # 198

    Everything is about the self, but the self is no longer enough. I guess that’s why I’m here, tallying up the reasons to care. Looking at you, wondering if… I am not asking you to cure me of my vanity. This is not within your power. I am simply hoping you will let me love…

  • Love letter # 295

    You were the love of my sadness, and we were the lachrymose twins. How my sorrow loved you; sought you out in the throng. I saw your black star shining – jewel in the darkness. We fashioned beautiful little tears by its stark, dark light. It was like a dream. But then I divorced the…

  • Love letter # 180

    In the silence it’s all too obvious. There’s only noise between us and the quiet. And all these little scrawls that make letters, that turn themselves into words, they are nought but scratching. Yet still we keep saying I love you. Still we keep making those sounds. We may know it’s folly, just some invention,…

  • Love letter # 188

    Your fear comes pouring off you. It’s frightening. And such a waste of time. I was in your shoes once. It was awful. I took someone’s love and turned it into the burden of proof. No wonder my fears came true. Don’t do this to yourself. These things do not bear cross examination. Love is…

  • Love letter # 160

    What starts as a whisper ends in silence. Where there is a seed, dry leaves. I did not see you coming, but I know I will bleed when you go. The ghosts of the future are hovering in the lighted dust, portentous little sighs. Even in the thrill of this, their hatchlings are playing. It’s…

  • Love letter # 155

    Now that we find ourselves here I’ve had to ask myself: what does it mean that I still love you? Experience tells me that love is often what we settle for. I see all your cracks, your quirks, your blatant inconsistencies. And you see mine. There is nothing heroic about us; we are just children…