FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 467

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    In clear headed moments I know you no longer think of me as I still think of you; and I am fine with this. I do not seek to rewrite history. When you said you loved me, you meant it –  just as you did, minutes later, when you said you couldn’t stand me. We…

  • Love letter # 477

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    They don’t have to know the truth – just something they can believe that will make them leave us alone.

  • Now that I am here at last…

    Now that I am here at last…

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    …I am in awe of you once more, for you have saved me again. From that which, until this afternoon, I could barely bring myself to utter in thought. In the present flood, I adore you. To call it any less would be a lie. Back then, in the hazy remembering, where only certain things…

  • Love letter # 862

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    When you moved away, you took the world with you. A gutted replica remained. The outline of something, nearly nothing. I traversed the hollow streets – the excavated avenues – and how they did echo. The empty rooms we left behind. A resonant quiet in place of song. That was years ago. Now, returning, I…

  • Love letter # 517

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    For what have I yielded? For what airs have I thrown up shutters to inrush? What hath impelled me to cede once guarded ground? Tis not for God or other compulsion. Tis not for reckless chance. I do not seek release from solitude, nor the flattery of the becoming eye. Yet, upon your herald I…

  • From afar

    From afar

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I have seen you from afar Across impossible distance The space between vision I noted tiny details From the vantage of strangers Through this blood borne prism So nearly have I touched you Vaulting infinite regress To swing within your rhythm I have never breathed your name Nor heard such outward sighs Yet still I…

  • Love letter # 465

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    How much evidence is required before bold declarations are broadcast? How long to wait before saying aloud that which is screaming within? By what metric do I reach such heated conclusion? Perhaps if we did not reduce everything to the reputedly rational, I would not be in this fix. This missive would seem less mad.…

  • Love letter # 474

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    The once tangible force of your presence has become a kind of archaeology. Fossilised remains. Dead pictures, pressed flat by time. The world we once fashioned with our tender belief compressed to a hush of breath. A clock ticks. It counts the leftover jewels in our crown. We, who made as if all was ours,…

  • Le retour du printemps

    Le retour du printemps

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    …Then they were in their spring, their bright emergent hope. Girls. Boys. Budding into sex and fumbling, tender belief. On the crest of hormones and heartache. Theirs was the eternity of boundless tomorrow. The widescreen romance of aching desire and the blizzard lust of newly invented love. Here the peaks of exception; vaulting the valley…

  • Love letter # 698

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Most people are like neutrinos. They pass through you without effect, nary a ripple on the surface. This is not to deride them; it’s simply how it is. But not with you. With you it was deal breaking, climate changing. It was an apocalypse for a while; now it’s the new normal. But not just…