FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 552

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    With you, I ascend and descend. With you, I am both stilled and in flow. With you, I rest in silent calm…and wonder…have I found my voice at last?

  • Love letter # 782

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Of course there are things I do not know about you, and vice versa. Indeed, there may well be things we do not realise about ourselves. So many unknowns…and yet…the attraction of bodies in space. I have the feeling we will come together in spite of our combined caution; not by the mechanics of fate,…

  • Love letter # 612

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    There was a time when I would have said it – I love you – but now I do not know what this means. It used to seem obvious, but in hindsight perhaps it was simply a conflation of lust and other conditions. Now, with you, what I can say is that, whatever you wish…

  • Love letter # 548

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Realising now. How I miss you. I thought I could walk away, but you are still with me. Coursing in my blood. In truth, you were my sanctuary. Now I feel exposed. Nearly raw. Yet really…it is not you; it is the feeling. I am sure I did not thank you enough for it. My…

  • Dear Eternity

    Dear Eternity

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    A love letter to inevitable uncertainty  Blink. A page turns. A new reality dawns. A home no more; soon to be an old address. Photographs. People who will promise to stay in touch but won’t. If once I talked the talk, now I stand ready to walk. Maybe walk the Earth. Who knows. Which is…

  • Love letter # 534

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    An old song – one you introduced me to – and an idea. You breathe through the lyrics, and I feel again what I used to feel. The swoon. Your intoxicant promise. In a click I am searching you. What was last thing we said, typed? The slow, email coda of a mad immolation. How…

  • Love letter # 524

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There is a tension in my jaw. It could be the fear of speaking up. So often we are punished for truth. Yet, if I reside in silence, what will it reveal? I can only guess how you might interpret it. For a state of not knowing is where I currently remain. Not being able…

  • Love letter # 922

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    You/not you. I/not I. Outlines of a sketchily remembered tryst. Me on the dancefloor. You on the tennis court. A few bright days. Even fewer nights. Your eyes searching me. Was I the one? Were you? No…as we soon discovered. A spasm of lust – lips and hips and hands – but not love. Not…

  • A surprising NYE café encounter

    A surprising NYE café encounter

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” the voice said, speaking without judgement. Yes, she was. The waitress. Young and perfect. Full in flower. In elastic, fertile prime. I was hoping not to get caught, tracing her feline grace as she brought the Cold Drip to my table. As she inclined slightly towards me, and the scent of…

  • Love letter # 587

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    In your presence I know who I am; not because you wield magic but because you give me permission. You create space with your acceptance, of yourself and, by extension, of me. Yours is the love that allows, and in that gracious latitude I stretch out, to touch you, and be embraced in return. I…