Love letter # 473 However much I would like to talk to you, I am sabotaged. Perhaps it is shallow and silly to admit, but I am befuddled by your form and flow. Words catch and break. Mature demeanour disintegrates. I get sweaty. It’s terrible. The irony of your beauty is that you will most…

Love letter # 671 You nearly had me fooled. Believing it was me. Then I saw you do the same with others. The smile, the posture, the close attention. Yet I shall not curse you. My stumbling is my imbalance. You are merely utilising the advantages given to you by nature. I would do the…

Love letter # 835 How many roads have I travelled in search of belief? Schools of thought, ancient philosophers, the many isms and ideologies; these have been my citadels of faith. All have crumbled. Their gods are not merely slain but revealed to be little more than idols of fantasy. Yet I have gladly set…

Love letter # 656 What if you are happier elsewhere? What if this is not working for you? Would I hold on? Would there even be a point to that? If I saw that look in your eye – that gazing into the distance of another – would I love you enough not to close…

For my vanished Valentines

You. All of you. Seeping through cracks in time. Splinters in splintered memory. Each of you left behind, embraced now by distance; from which I may regard, with detached perspective, the folly of erstwhile excess and the dry ache of ancient deprivation. What was I thinking? The unkept promises, the self-pitying dramas, the cruel indecisions….

Love letter # 506 What do you say when someone notices that you keep looking away? I thought about lying. Instead, I just said, “Because it’s hard to look at you.” What is it about the body – its presence, its lines, its promise – that obliterates other niceties? I pushed the plate aside. “Not…

Love letter # 482 Once we sang along. We were amazing. We did amazing things. Did we ever believe it, or did we always know? Look now in the mirror, my love…there is the truth of us. In cold glass. Our ordinary outcome. We said a lot of things. They did not come to pass….

On observing the brutality of time

A non-descript morning. Solo coffee, people watching. No hint of rupture. And then it happens. Two strangers. Him old, her young, side by side at the counter. I see him look at her. She does not flinch. Does not notice. He bows his head. I sense what he senses. The ocean. He scuffs along, elderly,…

Love letter # 695 There is no control; at most, precious little. Moments like this seem to emerge, whole, shining, from the greater whole. Now there is disruption. A smooth trajectory interrupted. Yours was the merest incursion. The fraction it took. A breeze, rattling doors. New sounds in the house. This morning I woke with…

Love letter # 376 I want to take you home, so that we can remove our masks. Here, we are actors. Away from this noise, we will speak truly once more. Now, they endeavour to infect us, by accident or design. Later, we shall cure ourselves of the ubiquitous malady with the honesty of presence…