FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 593

    —

    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…

  • Love letter # 604

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    They will not love you. They do not know how. Not like you would prefer. I say this to myself to make it better. For me, but also for you. Because I do not wish to resent you. There is little point, and you do not deserve it. My asking never implied your acceptance. I…

  • Love letter # 546

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Autumn. Evening. Dusk like scented smoke. Soft chill. Like the way you once sighed; and I so nearly touched you. But didn’t. A petal shivering. Tear of dew on downy skin. As though anything firmer than quiet longing would turn the bloom to dust. I heard the wave of your breath crashing. The tide receding.…

  • Leave them all behind

    Leave them all behind

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    We know what they are like. We have seen them all before. Their kind. So sure, so set in their ways. Those who feel they have the right to instruct, to prescribe. We should do this, be like that, live like they do. By their rules. If only their example was worth following, maybe we…

  • Love letter # 828

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Congratulations. I wish you well. Both of you. Truly. It is good to be found. Having seen the truth of this, I would not wish it lost. And yet…everything else, which I need not repeat. For that which is unsaid is already known.   

  • Love letter # 527

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Because I had no other way, I arranged coincidences. It was not difficult. Our routines made it easy for me to be at the same cafeteria, to catch the same train. We would talk and I would wonder. Could I make you notice me? Did you see what I saw? Then our fingers touched. Barely…

  • Love letter # 629

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Once, in the garden of stars, it seemed like we were side by side – but that was a trick of the light. From the vantage of great distance alone did we appear together. Here, the space is beyond our measure. You are on the other side of the sky. I only know you by…

  • Love letter # 577

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Because you see us from afar, we are all tiny…like stars.

  • Love letter # 596

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I went through the things recently, the assorted goods and chattel of living, and I threw most of it out. Dusty leftovers of erstwhile passions, the surplus machines of modern domesticity, the souvenir trinkets of memories already smudged. Then, when I surveyed the surviving pile, I knew without counting that it was you. Here, these…

  • Love letter # 20230218

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Tomorrow I leave you. Yet, you will barely notice my absence; for I only walked in your dappled light, another visitor, passing through you like the breeze, my flight shaped, scented, by your sentinel presence. In the sculpture of my motion, the evidence of you, perturbations on the surface of a stream. The flex of…