2025 Archives - The Fat Poet

Unsent

I tell myself: stop. Enough ink, enough hunger. Enough reaching across air. But the words do not listen. They spill from me like water…

I think of you the way fruit thinks of summer, inevitably, without impatience, accepting sweetness as a form of waiting.

Do not think I exaggerate. Love is exact. It measures the distance between two chairs, counts the seconds between one message and the next,…

And here I stand, between house and horizon, between what England has been and what this morning is briefly willing to promise, content to…

Perhaps one evening, when the blue hour has fallen like a soft cloak over our shoulders, we will find ourselves in that quiet center,…

If you come my way, you do not choose me, you choose you, the you that has been calling from deep inside the dust,…

A man fights many things in his life, but the river inside him is not one to break with fists. You watch it. You…

I cannot decide whether I am following you or being followed by the thought of you, but the distance between us shrinks and stretches…

I am only a man learning to love you the way the world loves the seasons: completely, hopelessly, forever.