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…

She reminds me of you

Some things are known before they are known. Like winter; and the logic of its freeze. I felt her retreat before I saw it. Inching back from intimacy and the fear of being seen. That’s why I’m writing to you. Because you understand. There is no need for detail; save that her wounds once bled…

Love letter # 777 Nothing is owned. All is given. Or taken. The look in your eyes last night said as much. You once told me that what you wanted was to be heard. Well, you have been. All without saying a word. I realise there is no score, no account to be balanced, only…

Love letter # 520 I ponder the Sanskrit word ‘namaha’ – not mine – and I remember that all is given; like your love. There was a moment, like a door, when you sat beside me, and I was not who I was the moment before.

Love letter # 529 Is it realistic for me to harbour hope, to imagine a future including you? Much as I would like to say yes, when I wake from the dream of your beauty, truth is the sober eye. It is clear to me that I could offer and you would accept, and that…

Love letter # 518 We said no, even though we were on the cusp of yes. Looking at old phone footage – the way we interact, how close we stand, the way our bodies seem to signal a kind of unity – I see it clearly. More than ever. But it wasn’t to be. Our…

Love letter # 522 Last night, dreaming, I was in your arms. I felt the satin warmth of you. Your pressing solidity. This morning, awake, I wonder which is closer to truth. Conscious distance or REM embrace? When you return this afternoon, how shall I meet your eye? What, if anything, shall I see in…

Love letter # 478 Every year at this time I fall in love with you again. For a few weeks from mid-September my body remembers. Not in words or pictures. In quickening. A tension sweet and low and giddy. On bright evenings I breathe in honey. I glide, as though you had just bestowed your…

Love letter # 698 Most people are like neutrinos. They pass through you without effect, nary a ripple on the surface. This is not to deride them; it’s simply how it is. But not with you. With you it was deal breaking, climate changing. It was an apocalypse for a while; now it’s the new…