FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 16

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    A thousand years ago, or so it seems, I held you ever so briefly, and you, blooming, melted with me. In the eye of a loving god we were one, formed together. Yet that was barely a flicker in the scorch of years. Seeing you now, everything altered, everything as it was, ancient tenderness fills…

  • Love letter # 803

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    It was all very sudden. I guess it had to be. Not so long ago I was someone else, now I am the one who loves you; and although I cannot say precisely what that means, the effect cannot be denied. If there had been a moment when I could have paused, I would most…

  • Write your name on the wall of loneliness

    Write your name on the wall of loneliness

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    It happened again today. Heart breaking in a public place. A young Mandarin speaking mother sitting less than a metre to my left, exhausted as she tried to get her child to settle. Our eyes briefly met. A pale smile, flickering across the cosmic space of language, decades, and parenthood. She was drowning, but I…

  • Love letter # 64

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Since you. Most days. I am the near neighbour of melancholy muses. I hear them clearly. Voices in the dwelling of sorrow. Calling out my name. The sirens of improbable distance. Like today. Sadness descending, sensuous like the humid warmth of a cloudy summer day. The lustrous embrace of separation. I was in public. I…

  • Love letter # 639

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    So subtle sometimes. Under the radar. A blink, and there you are. Beside me, inside me. So much so that I nearly become you. There are no words. Not now.

  • Love letter # 217

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Ask once and the answer is yes. Ask a hundred times and it will be no. My love will not hold up under scrutiny. It will not consistently meet the criteria. Neither will yours. Therefore, I shall not dissect and quantify your affections, just as I shall not expect them. Although you have said “I…

  • Love letter # 1001

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Shall we apply the old standards…or would you like to break with convention? We could, of course, repeat old patterns. Bring the grime of history to our table. Start with a spark, end with a smear of ash. Rub more salt in. Or we could choose something else. But that is just fighting talk; and…

  • Love letter # 411

    Love letter # 411

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Seeking distance. Numbness. A blaze of sex. Blur of intoxication. Defiant self-talk. Strip you from my skin. Tear that page out. Now the wound of folly. Dishonour. You only said goodbye. I scratched the paint from the walls. Hoping that the ruins would set me free. They did not. In time, this blood will clot,…

  • Love letter # 601

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There is a language. I may once have been fluent. No more. All the signs are hieroglyphic. The gestures ambiguous. Today, I look at you and wonder. What is that smile, that look? Though I find myself wishing them hopeful, I remind myself that they are likely habit. A friendly disposition. An openness. Perhaps no…

  • Love letter # 555

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There is nothing I can say here that you do not already know. This is merely an act of confirmation. Though it may be dressed in a thousand ways, the truth is naked. The end.