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…

Love letter # 456 The beauty of it is subtle. Light slowly creeping into a room. Scent of a flower rising in the air. A gradual emergence of change, of anticipation. There’s a Japanese word – fuubutsushi – look it up; it describes how I feel now that you are on the scene. It is…

Love letter # 616 “I’m not opposed.” you said. How was I meant to proceed after that? Sure, it was consent, an allowance, but it wasn’t even lust, let alone love. I had courted you, and in the process my desire had deepened beyond affection and into genuine care. And then…a first kiss. My body…

Love letter # 483 After all is said and done, I prefer to be near you. If you feel the same, let’s just keep it that way. What other reasons do we require?

Love letter # 513 Perhaps I do not know what love is – this complex, convoluted feeling we sometimes conjure – but I am certain that, whatever the philosophers say, I love you. Is it a dream, a hormonal mechanism, a justification of my innate desire for validation? Will it fall apart under scrutiny, dissolving…

Love letter # 808 It was so simple, and because of that, altering. Sitting across from you, the space between us an ordinary distance, feeling as though an entire ocean was moving. An immensity contained within the easy reach of a hand. The unspectacular fact of two people at a table…a canvas, upon which our…

Love letter # 374 Though I can see you on a screen and message you whenever I choose, you seem so far away. Two dimensional love is not enough. Emoticons don’t cut it. Even phone calls ring hollow. Physical distance, I fear, may one day become emotional distance. Our intimacy simply forgotten. The sense of…

Love letter # 2020 This could be the best thing that ever happened to us. We might remember why we love one another.

For the anniversary of stars

A glance at the screen, a date in the corner; and just like that: thirty years. The gap between waking and dreaming. A space hollowed of promises. The tender hook, still fast. Timeless. Remember how it rained that afternoon. How the evening was soft; lambent as the rings changed hands and the waterfall sang nearby….

Love letter # 713 You were a white blonde child; now you’re honey brown. You were a lissome youth; now your lightness takes a different form. I cannot hold you as you were – except in the trap of memory – for you are not the angel of yore, you are the fractured and complex…