FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 430

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    It is in the bittersweet beauty of autumn that I return. The crisp azure of early afternoon, the honey gold linger of evening, the aromatic chill of dusk. In such air I once stood beside you. Almost touched you. Your dark eyes a fire inside me. Then a blink. Followed by years. The long distance…

  • The angel and her silence

    The angel and her silence

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    It was you that I saw. Amidst the teeming. With its voice brash and colours bright. While the dance was happening. In the vivid swirl of wine and song. If I had arrived alone, for each brushing past I was lonelier still. Filling the space with empty sound. Yet we did not speak, for there…

  • Love letter # 2020

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    This could be the best thing that ever happened to us. We might remember why we love one another.

  • Love letter # 503

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    There is much I have forgotten, details yielded to time and other fogs. But the body holds traces, relives the sensation. The wonder of your arrival, like the beating of butterfly wings. The rush of falling, as though desire, coded in flutters, remains, with the distortions of ordinary grind edited out and the purity of…

  • Love letter # 485

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Though I once yearned for the summer, summer made its way. Now that I pray for the summer to stay, autumn is merely a cool breath away. My desire is what desire is; the sound of itself. Yet you emerged from the silence; and into the quiet – and though my longing is sustained, you…

  • Love letter # 494

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Of course I think about touching. You must know this already. I try to hide it, but desire has a way of showing through. I see your eyes searching me, prising apart my fragile reserve. Questioning my eroding resolve. Yet, I am duly confined to my role as watcher. Admirer. My love shall barely breath…

  • Love letter # 563

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Even now, you reveal me to myself. As though, across time and distance, your voice in the form of echoes, magic in the guise of miasma. I came out of the meeting late, dusk settling. Walked along the street of our past. The places we drank. Kissed. Fought. The short cuts we took back to…

  • Love letter # 437

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    It is hard to admit, let alone say, but yes, I do ponder the possibility of us. What’s more, we have kissed behind my eyes. In my thoughts I have heard you say clearly what I have been reading between the lines. In fantasy we have danced. And today, waking from the dream of you,…

  • Love letter # 558

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Perhaps if we had not felt the immensity, we too would have sought the surety of anchors. Reduced ourselves to the bareness of names. Huddled beneath the aegis of myth. Knelt in the cathedral of tribes. Yet it was the land that we loved, not the king who laid claim. The fragile rhythm of hearts,…

  • For the anniversary of stars

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    A glance at the screen, a date in the corner; and just like that: thirty years. The gap between waking and dreaming. A space hollowed of promises. The tender hook, still fast. Timeless. Remember how it rained that afternoon. How the evening was soft; lambent as the rings changed hands and the waterfall sang nearby.…