Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 453

    I realise that many eyes are watching you, consuming you, and that in scattered dreams you are daily evoked. I too conjure you in the hush of thought. Sit with you in the vacuum of longing. Imagine words unheard, touch as yet unknown. Are you merely the sylph of configuration? The siren of incompleteness? I…

  • For the beautiful strangers

    For the beautiful strangers

    Though we are yet to meet, and may never, I know, by instinct, precisely who you are. I see you, fully formed, in the blinding dazzle of sunlight. I feel you, present and textural, in the warm murmur of golden evenings. I sense your approach, rising, in the abundant promise of spring. Intoxicated, I can…

  • Love letter # 505

    Being with you is like listening to The Ronettes. When you came into my life, so unexpected, I was transported, cast into flight, like the euphoric chorus of teenage pop songs. Now I am electrified, dizzied by an uncomplicated, plaintive yearning that feels like innocent joy. The ridiculous blush of it, the sunlit hope, as…

  • Love letter # 483

    After all is said and done, I prefer to be near you. If you feel the same, let’s just keep it that way. What other reasons do we require?

  • Love letter # 775

    The memory lives in every cell, archived in muscle, carried by blood. The sheer sensation of you. That shattering instant of your arrival. Everything changing. A beam of light from your eyes. The space collapsing between us. I knew what it was; yet had no idea. I simply stood in the line of your gaze…

  • Love letter # 513

    Perhaps I do not know what love is – this complex, convoluted feeling we sometimes conjure – but I am certain that, whatever the philosophers say, I love you. Is it a dream, a hormonal mechanism, a justification of my innate desire for validation? Will it fall apart under scrutiny, dissolving into observance? Are you…

  • Love letter # 487

    Today, in the afternoon sunlight…a scent that reminded me of you. I have been floating ever since.

  • Love letter # 808

    It was so simple, and because of that, altering. Sitting across from you, the space between us an ordinary distance, feeling as though an entire ocean was moving. An immensity contained within the easy reach of a hand. The unspectacular fact of two people at a table…a canvas, upon which our imaginings are thrown. The…

  • Love letter # 452

    What, in the midst, seems hellish, will sometimes be revealed as deliverance. Thus it was with us. A journey into conflict that, in its denouement, yielded more than mere catharsis. In fire we saw, truly, that which was burnt. Which required burning. Did we tear ourselves apart – make ourselves anew with the scatterlings? Were…

  • Love letter # 650

    There is a moment, when the sun pierces clouds towards the close of a winter afternoon, that brings me to you. It is a fragile brightness. It is the colour of hope. A brief transportation to the richness of spring, to the sensual bake of summer. For though the dark and cold are quick to…