For the beautiful strangers

Though we are yet to meet, and may never, I know, by instinct, precisely who you are. I see you, fully formed, in the blinding dazzle of sunlight. I feel you, present and textural, in the warm murmur of golden evenings. I sense your approach, rising, in the abundant promise of spring. Intoxicated, I can…

Love letter # 505 Being with you is like listening to The Ronettes. When you came into my life, so unexpected, I was transported, cast into flight, like the euphoric chorus of teenage pop songs. Now I am electrified, dizzied by an uncomplicated, plaintive yearning that feels like innocent joy. The ridiculous blush of it,…

Love letter # 487 Today, in the afternoon sunlight, a scent that reminded me of you. I have been floating ever since.

Love letter # 650 There is a moment, when the sun pierces clouds towards the close of a winter afternoon, that brings me to you. It is a fragile brightness. It is the colour of hope. A brief transportation to the richness of spring, to the sensual bake of summer. For though the dark and…

Love letter # 622 As the sun shines, it goldens the lights in your hair. In the rainfall, dew on your skin, a gaze so softly cast. When the night comes, tender, the scent of touch, and the quiet breath of knowing. Still. With you. Always.

Love letter # 504 I watched your silken movement. I was blind after that. And when I heard your voice, there was no other sound. Then, with the advent of your touch, there was nothing left to feel. For there was you – and I was remade.

Love letter # 379 For I have walked the line between light and dark, and dwelled in the house without name. This I did for the love of you. Though I have wandered far from home, and sailed without the promise of harbour, I have journeyed for the succour of your love. I may thirst…

The angel and her silence

It was you that I saw. Amidst the teeming. With its voice brash and colours bright. While the dance was happening. In the vivid swirl of wine and song. If I had arrived alone, for each brushing past I was lonelier still. Filling the space with empty sound. Yet we did not speak, for there…

Love letter # 503 There is much I have forgotten, details yielded to time and other fogs. But the body holds traces, relives the sensation. The wonder of your arrival, like the beating of butterfly wings. The rush of falling, as though desire, coded in flutters, remains, with the distortions of ordinary grind edited out…

Love letter # 558 Perhaps if we had not felt the immensity, we too would have sought the surety of anchors. Reduced ourselves to the bareness of names. Huddled beneath the aegis of myth. Knelt in the cathedral of tribes. Yet it was the land that we loved, not the king who laid claim. The…