Author: Paul Ransom
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Our love took place in silence
Our love took place in silence, beneath the veil of uttering, in rooms unfurnished. It did not feed on the touch of skin, nor brightly burn with the fire of clutching mouths. It did not bloom as flowers, it did not wear the ring. There was no need of song, for we danced between the…
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Love letter # 442
For you I need look no further. You are in my blood, electricity in my fibres. You are made of the same sinew, and in the subsoil of my being you have grown to fruition. When I am dancing, you are the animator. When I sing of love it is with your voice. When it…
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Love letter # 358
I love you because, in regarding you, I behold the possibility of myself and, more than ever, I find the prospect wonderful. Thank you.
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Love letter # 691
I was the starving till you grew. I was the drifter, then you called. But I had an anchor, while you had wings. Now we’re on a journey home, – to the sea where islands meet and sleep. And there we will find we have everything…because nothing at all is everything.
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Love letter # 325
If you touch me I am sure I will promptly dissolve. If you take me in your arms I may just break. That’s how it feels – almost asphyxiating in your presence, wondering where to look, what to do, how not to melt into a formless mess. You see this kind of thing in films,…
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Love letter # 592
At the time I was blind. Just acting. Reacting. Blundering hurt and foolish. Doing things I never should. Saying stuff I didn’t really mean. Or now wish that I hadn’t. Because I felt out of control I tried to impose a form of control on you. All the usuals: blackmail, pity seeking, stubborn refusals and…
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Love letter # 408
You. Who else? What other reason could there be? Please don’t pretend you aren’t aware. Don’t add that disingenuous veil of denial to the mix. It’s bad enough as it is – seeing you, having you near me. Those eyes, that smile. You see, I know you don’t mean it. You do it because you…
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Love letter # 366
I never really stopped loving you. Didn’t get the chance to. Which leaves the memory of you relatively untarnished; still lustrous, still the nigh miraculous possibility. The drudgery of years and the cooling of fires never applied to you. You left before ordinary set in. Maybe that was prescient of you. In the silence that…
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Love letter # 440
I could say it in a million ways but it always comes back to this: I love you. What does that mean? To be honest, I can’t pin it down – but I can sure feel it. This love, whatever it is, is as obvious as breath, as vital as blood. It is in me.…
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Love letter # 859
It is the promise of your kiss; the dream of waking up next to you. So primal, so powerful. Such humbling animal gravity. There really isn’t much more I can say.
