It is very quiet, very tender today

  Lover look, it is finally overcast The sky is heavy-bosomed Breasts burdened with unfed milk Four o’clock is six o’clock, five-thirty is seven The light closes so softly on the day Everywhere the trees wait, wait Birdsong minimises to a hush Snakes seek respite in the dank dark of fallen leaves There are goosebumps…

My body sends you letters

I miss you. From the rumble inside my gut I miss you. From the wince and gasping ache for your heat, I miss you. From between my tendons, from the twitch of my muscle, from the creak of my aging bones, I miss you. From the soft dark of my hot heart, the steady rise…

Postcards from Istanbul /4

“When I met you, you were both for me: the sensual and the spiritual. The two can never separate…” – Paul Celan to Ingeborg Bachmann Paris, 31 Oct 1957   Precious, precious one. The day closes on me again. I am left wondering just how little life is and how fleeting our time on earth….

Notes to a friend going to meet my love

There are fireworks going off here. It’s like the world is calling out her name. Listen to me, my friend. Before you go there are some things you must know. You will meet her, and her beauty will confuse you. It will derail you. You will sit across the table from her and she will…

A love letter to my father

Baba, So many years have passed since I have done this. I do not remember the last time I wrote to you, and it has not been for lack of need, or wanting to do so. I need to be honest: at some point, I just gave up on you. There did not seem to…

Her, Her, Her… or Why I Love Caitlyn Siehl

    It has been one year since the beginning of the end. In a few weeks we would have annihilated each other with fear, with sex, with imminence, with urgency, with too much love. For you, my love, who know who you are, turn soft. Be brave for the right reasons. Learn that love…

“She was real and imaginary all at once…”

Wherever you lay your hat, that’s your home. Home is where the heart is. As long as you’ve got family, you’ve got a home. You’re always hearing things like that. As a child, you believe home is the place you go after you’re done with school. The place with the bed, and dinner, and mum….

Why I love… Jennifer Mueller

“After theyโ€™re gone, loved ones have a way of remaining with you, like the thick silence that settles after an unwelcome question. Even what should be happy, relieved thoughts become heavy and fraught. She always hated when I sang. I always took it as an editorial comment, but I sang anyway โ€” and prepared for…