Archive for the Love letters Category

Twisted Valentine

Posted in Love letters, poetry with tags , , on February 14, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle


Tattoos and piercings lodged in the weave of her becoming

A pale flame that undulates from my hips towards the ceiling

She feels like mine but is held within the darkness’ grip

Its heavy fingers printed in the slats between her ribs Continue reading

You Rang Me Like A Bell

Posted in Love letters, poetry with tags , on January 22, 2019 by Jarrod Boyle

You rang me like a bell.

I lie on my back with the night pressed against my face

And the images resonate one after another –

Lying propped on your elbow in the eddies of the sheets

Looking at your bare ass as you’re bent over packing your suitcase

Prowling the footpath beside me with high-heeled precision

Reaching up inside you toward the depths of where you dream

Continue reading

Her Absence

Posted in Love letters, poetry, Pornography with tags , on April 19, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle


Her absence

luscious and pendulous

rhythmic and sussurant

respires beside me in the darkness Continue reading

The Most Beautiful Girl in the World and the Crime She Committed Against Her Own Face

Posted in Love letters with tags , , , , , , on January 4, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle


We met at the gym. I can remember a number of occasions I had seen her before we spoke, and she flowed inside the parameters of her name. Continue reading

Wonder Woman Should Join the Lingerie Football League

Posted in Journalism, Love letters, Observation, Pretensions toward cultural theory, Real Men, Ridiculous curiosity with tags , , , , , , , , , on January 27, 2016 by Jarrod Boyle

I have come late to the Lingerie Football League. Like most things of this nature, it appeared on my Facebook feed courtesy of my good friend and arbiter of all things that ride the cutting edge of bad taste, Matt Samartzis. Continue reading

Lisa Ann Has Hips Like a Cello

Posted in Fiction, Love letters, Pornography with tags on December 7, 2015 by Jarrod Boyle


Lisa Ann has hips like a cello. She’s the same colour, too. Continue reading

Desperate Romantic: My Life as a Stalker (A Lamentably True Story)

Posted in Acts of devotion, Love letters, Observation, Real Men with tags , , , , on December 3, 2014 by Jarrod Boyle



“Forget everything anybody says or does; everything is a cry, please love me.”


Sufi poet. Continue reading

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