Author: Paul Ransom
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Love letter # 862
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…
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Love letter # 517
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…
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From afar
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…
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Love letter # 465
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.…
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Love letter # 474
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,…
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Le retour du printemps
…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…
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Love letter # 698
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…
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Love letter # 586
Did not know I wanted you. Then I saw you near. Did not think I loved you. Then you disappeared. Was not grateful for your gifts. Then the price was paid. Could not sleep for missing you. Then I crashed awake. Felt I could not walk alone. Now I travel free. Set aside the baubles…
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Love letter # 468
The beauty of autumn is the sweetness of memory. Especially in the gloaming. Where you reside, nigh divine and untouchable. In the waft of woodsmoke I dream of a hearth with you.
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