You ask me why I write about love. Why, in this time when we are watching the world spiral, I spend my words recounting the moments I have slid like honey into another’s chest. And I tell you this: I dreamt I was teaching him how to build a fire to heat his cabin....
“I love you” used to be a compliment, now it’s more of a curse. See it in the way we settle for the mechanics. How we take juiceless walks through songs we should slow dance to. Why we tap a thirst trap and still stay thirsty. Our shields are raised. Our arms are...
Love is on the screen again. I swipe away the men like flies who share the secrets of the not-so-fair sex. My eyes linger on the sad poetry that falls from the mouths of the women who have loved and lived to tell the tale. And when someone is brave enough to offer...
He called me naive, but he didn’t realize that I was simply rooting for him. I know that the path where words align with action is built on uneven ground. I was perched on a high branch above him hoping he would find his footing. He called me naive, but he didn’t...
When it is real, it will crush you. But in the way that grapes are crushed for wine. It will rip off your eyelids. But in the way that allows you to see more daylight. It will smash its waves endlessly against you. But in the way that roots you into the courage to...
There is a world in which I never fully existed, one that will always be yours and not mine. Which is another way of saying that you died before you could tell me all your secrets. Maybe I am there with you in some way. In a wisp of memory you held as your light faded...
When I say I want you... What I mean to say is that there’s a special tree in a grove of oaks that towers over me on my daily walk. His gaze, like a guardian beast, leaves me breathless. Though I am dressed in wool and leather, under his shadow I am as bare as...
Every year on my daughter’s birthday I write her a love letter. One day maybe she will want to read them. My sweet girl, I had written an entirely different letter for you this year. It was complete and perfect in its expression of love for who you have been in my...
I pray for you every night in the way of the old religion. By which I mean I slip into your bedroom window just after you’ve fallen asleep. I sidle up to your resting form and lay my hand on your arm. You are steady, heavy, almost peaceful (if you can believe that)....
If you want to know me, as you say that you do, then follow me into the deep, dark wood. Find me resting in the spongy, loamy soil. That place where your feet will practically bounce on the beds of three hundred generations of leaves. You will wonder if you...
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The Bhagavad Gita 2:40