Conversations With A Friend
says He: yes, I do love you.
says I: why, why do you love me?
says He (pausing): I love you because you can talk. About anything, and it makes sense. (laughing). And because you’re generous.
says I: (laughing) with my heart or with my wallet?
says He: (laughing more) with your… everything about you.
Chuckling under our breath, the mid-afternoon sun into our coffee cups. I paused, walked with you to cross the road and smelt like your cigarette smoke for the rest of the day.
And I felt known.
Conversations By Mail
True romance is not just the notion of love but the gasp and the shudder of all manner of emotions in exquisite moments, captured and tasted as if in concentrate. Thus, poems of the deep heart, written by hand, sent by mail and arriving into my hand on a crisp new summer night exert everything that is good and beautiful about romance between friends.. the agony and ache of parting, the anticipation of reunion, the sorrow of distance, the joy of communicating.
There is but one poem, and it travels between us – always handwritten.