FREE LOVE LETTERS

Month: January 2012

  • Love letter # 192

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    We all bow before the seasons. Every year it’s the same – the particular perfume of beginning, the smell of promise. The scent in the air that night. And you spilling wine on my shirt. Your hand on my chest as I changed. My eyes hungry. Yours too. Him in the other room. You might…

  • Love letter # 184

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I know we’re all too cool these days to use the ‘L’ word. I mean, commitment is so passé, right? And why limit yourself? Do we say that shit because we’re afraid, or do we really believe in this cruel cult of self, this so called empowerment that’s really just vanity in skinny disguise? Maybe…

  • Love letter # 63

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There was no time when we were together – just a sea and you and me. Things I never dreamt of – dreamable – believed – and in my waking moments you were floating next to me. We had our lovely bubble – a world for no one else – and you were my beautiful…

  • Love letter # 107

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Maybe you thought I was perfect once. I didn’t. A mask won’t fool a mirror. All along, I was the one who judged. I was the arrogant reformer. You humbled me with your acceptance, and I acted like I was the one being held down. You gave me treasure. I hid it in a drawer.…

  • Love letter # 707

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There was sun and sky, There was blood and moon, There were locked up doors… And empty rooms. There were days and nights I was deaf and blind There was too much sound… Then there was you And it’s quiet now… And beautiful.

  • Love letter # 133

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I think sometimes I might be blessed. At least, that’s what I think when I think about you. I’m sure there are more worthy candidates. Kinder. Warmer. More truthful. Better able to return the love you so freely extend. I woke up in the middle of a dream with you, having no idea how I…

  • Love letter # 50

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I will confess a measure of fear. I know you feel it too. We have both lost blood before. I wonder if there is any more. But I love your kindness, the knowing laughlines at the sides of your still shining eyes. You still sparkle – and scratches fade away. I would be a fool…