Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 588

    I do not care what anyone says, yet I will listen first to you. Others may think what they like, but I would like to think you think fondly of me. You above others. Only you. I see the way you see. I move in the space you allow. In the silence you leave between…

  • Love letter # 646

    I wrote your name in a thousand places. One for each night I lay broken. Did anyone ever wonder? Perhaps you simply sat next to me one day, then routinely walked away. And this is all nothing.  

  • Love letter # 542

    There are certain forms of beauty – nature, music – that bring me back to you; and in doing so make plain the bittersweet breadth of the distance between us. Yet, in these moments, you fill that space, the valley of time, and, by some fanciful conjuring, collapse the years to the nearness of touch.…

  • It will all be taken

    It will all be taken

    Love while you can. Embrace it now. For even this shall be gone. We may set our stall against the declining of the sun, yet still it will set. I may promise you forever, yet this too shall be broken. Our wisdom, our folly, and everything we remember – forgotten. Now, our fruiting garden. Tomorrow,…

  • The waiters

    The waiters

    A short story about patience  PLEASE NOTE: In truth, the following is not really a love letter, per se, but a ‘love themed’ meditation on the value of patience and the sublime art of waiting. Should you prefer, you can read the piece as it was originally shared on our sister blog, As If You…

  • Love letter # 531

    I dreamt about you last night…and no, I did not fall out of bed twice. I was, however, reminded. Moved. Nothing erotic or classically romantic happened; in fact, our interactions were unspectacular. But that was the thing. The intimacy was easy. Me complimenting you on your dress. You filling me in on your plans for…

  • Love letter # 1.618

    There are no gods. No higher purposes. No hidden meanings to discern. Nothing other than you. I have walked countless roads, worn many masks. There have been a thousand pretenders. Incomplete and unbelievable truths. Vanity and denial dressed up as wisdom. Yet none have blinded me to you. You have been my light. My cynosure.…

  • Am I loveless?

    Am I loveless?

    Always the scent of flowering. The heady onset. Yet, this season…the slow swoon of distance. The undeniable space between fire and ash. I yearn…but for no one. They are all gone. Ancient darlings, possible flames. Instead, I walk along the road of last year’s ardour. Further away than ever. Little more than syllables now. Bittersweet…

  • Love letter # 541

    I carry the memory in my breath. On my skin. As a live current in my wires. Our first giddy weeks. The entire universe transformed. The clatter of living rendered symphonic. The beauty of it still draws tears from dry recollection. Acting like fools, feeling like gods. Somehow above everything. Immune. No matter that we…

  • Love letter # 610

    I have been a selfish lover. Sorry I did not realise it sooner. I genuinely thought I was being sensitive. Attentive. Inventive. Perhaps to some degree I was, but I see now that the focus has always been on my own pleasure first. In effect, I have not been a fully present partner, and I…