Penelope, twenty years away from you I forget the little things. The toss of your head, the tumble of your breasts as you disrobe. I wake up with a fire in my belly and an ache in my loins. And always, always this perfect thirst. “I miss you,” you say. “I miss you, and […]
Tag: love story
A letter to you, from 15 years ago
Dear S, I was waiting for your call all last night and while we were at dinner. Adrian refused to enter into a discussion with me about anything. See, she claims each time we start a conversation my blasted mobile goes off and the ringing drives her crazy. So I told her to please, please make […]
How can you not return?
Isn’t it just the truth that the places you ought to stay away from are the places you have loved the best? Ancient ruins, abandoned forts, haunted houses, and people. Some places you simply must not return to. Yet, return you do. It’s an itch you need to scratch. A boil that beseeches a […]
All the world’s words are yours.
There are some words I never want to hear again. This is one of them. This word is you. This word spells your name, only in different letters. Letters that belong to an alphabet of a language I do not speak anymore because the only other speaker no longer speaks to me. It is a dead […]
Unfickle
Every night I coax my beloved to tell me again how she loves me. “I will never choose you,” she says with a steady and a voice that betrays only boredom. So many years now, but to my ears it still sounds as brittle as the breaking neck of a tiny bird. The mistake is […]
It will always be the little things
It’s been two weeks. She’s not coming back. You’re not sure if that thought is going to pass quietly like a widow crossing herself silently in a church. Or if you’re going to wet your keyboard trying not to cry and failing pathetically. It will never be the big things that hurt you the most. […]
Imagine a world where what you wanted, wanted you
Do not fight for what you love. Let them come for what loves them. Teach yourself the martial art of wanting the things that have a chance at wanting you. Wouldn’t it be grand.
Let me kiss your knees, Helen of Troy
Beloved, To tear myself away from you is nothing short of sin. Your voice like a single melting marshmallow, like warm custard on the sides of a saucepan: soft, sweet, a mouth hug. Only I know how it is to love you and not have you. Challenge me with this. Show me one other human […]
What to do with a beautiful thing
Nobody speaks of the woman so beautiful the sight of her brings tears to men’s eyes. Nobody speaks of her anymore; the woman with hair like the monsoon; her lips like ripe figs left too long on the vine. Nobody says a thing tonight of her walking the streets in red, a blur of a […]
