Love letter # 510 Time and separation make little difference. You are burnt into me. What looks like perfect skin to others is the mask of your presence – the burnished shell of your departure. I have been shaped by the hand of our union. I still keep the secrets you whispered, walk as though…

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 # 550 So here we are on the brink of remembering. Serene progress interrupted. The flutter of ancient butterflies. The nausea of wondering. The waves of your passing. I am leaning, not falling – but enough to sense the up-rushing impact. The rupture. A fresh, hairline break in a heart long stilled. As…

Love letter # 677 Desire is a mystery I do not pretend to understand. How is it that we can have such an obvious and emotional connection, and be so close, and yet you look right through me? Once, I would have tried all manner of contortions to build a fire. Now I do not…

Love letter # 598 For a minute I thought perhaps I was in love with you. On reflection, I am simply becoming addicted to your attention. It has been an age since anyone attended to me so closely, and with such affection. Likewise, it has been intoxicating to see my impact on another. To matter,…

Love letter # 533 When I look at you I become aware of the distance between hunger and feeding – which can be an ocean sometimes – and an ocean can be said to be made of tears – which is why we have sea walls. …But only when I notice. Which is why I…

Love letter # 845 You come to stand, with calm deliberation, in my shadow, and from this well of darkness your light shines. A magnificent, obliterating luminosity. The ramparts of ego are dissolving, washed out in the beauty of this newly blinding brightness. Now there are no details to cling to. Only the wave, as…

Lovers on the Belgrave line

Look at them. So in love. Or lust. He slumps, gawky teenager, back into the seat. She hovers, gazing down into his eyes, the light bright in hers. They are soft, plump like buds. The air is imbued with their desire. Flowers and honey. I catch my breath, stop myself from obvious swooning. In the…

Love letter # 644 We give all our love to the girls of memory, because they are never further than a thought away. They walk beside us in the fiction of our conjuring, where our hearts are always true. Though we may be sexless and alone, we feel the rhythm of their sway in the…

Love letter # 516 It’s true, I look at couples and see us. And there is a fracture in my heart. Hairline, but there. Like you once were. Before I chose. Of course I wonder; did I chase one thing and end up with another. Is this the mirage of my longing? I wanted this…