FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • An honest dating app profile

    An honest dating app profile

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Met a lady over coffee today. She smiled, flirted. Said, “You look like an artist.” Am I, I wondered, or just a cliche?   She wanted to know what apps I used. Which way did I swipe? “I don’t,” I said. A few minutes later she enquired, “So…you’ve been single quite a while now, haven’t…

  • Love letter # 1201

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Now is the melancholy season. You…and you…and you. All my flowers. Your glory, your brightness, your turning. The inevitability of damp earth. The wheel, once more, in its orbit. I am, by slow degrees, uplifted and crushed beneath. Where, from the soil, I shall rise to sing your name once more. As I do now.

  • Love letter # 663

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I write this letter to myself. To remind me. Today, for the first time since farewell, for a quiet minute or so, we did not think of her. Thus, it begins. The end.

  • Love letter # 526

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There are a thousand reasons not to proceed. Nearly all of them are other people’s. Only one of them, fear of judgement, is ours. However, at this juncture, we may be better advised to think of the reasons to go ahead. Others may be disappointed if we choose one another, yet how will we feel…

  • Love letter # 594

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Often, I wonder…how do you know? These are things you could only see from the sky. Like my complicity. The shortfalls in my soul. Yours must be a merciful eye. More so than mine. At times, I am shamed by the disparity. Yet you forgive; or at least, understand and have patience. If I have…

  • Love letter # 568

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    What I like most about you is your electricity. Your energy, your vivacity, the way you shine at night. Though this can be alienating, and hard to keep up with, it is never dull. You have a splendid movement, a form of aliveness that draws me in. Even when I turn my eyes from you,…

  • I remember sunburnt shoulders

    I remember sunburnt shoulders

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in , , ,

    When I heard that you died, I felt your leaving like a layer of absence, as though a sliver had been excised. The loss of you is subtly haunting, a faint resonance in a largely vacated space. Decades ago, in our shared boyhood, we ran through the carefree hours between schooling and nascent adulthood. Before…

  • Love letter # 547

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Lately – cannot say why – I have sensed you like the presence of weather. Close like the tropical night. I have dreamt of you fifteen times; and there we have danced, like we never did. You kissed me in these visions as I still wish you would. And when my eyes are open, for…

  • Love letter # 994

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I look into your blue distance, imagine the other side of your horizon, and I am transported. In your endless capacity I am contained; yet not restrained. Your tabula rasa is my where my story continues. With your quiet way you entice my language. For there are no anchors on the vessel of your love,…

  • Love letter # 593

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    The story was intoxicating. The legend of us. The way we got together. Such a dream team. Damn that reality. Now I am not sure I ever loved you, nor you me. Our darling was the romance; the fact and fiction of finding each other. For years, it was enough. Until it wasn’t. In the…