FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 118

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    It was your kindness that drew me to you. So clear, so simple, stark against the scrawl of everything else. In a world loud with selfish empire, with crude grasping and mean denial, scratched with the arbitrary markings of tribal assertion, it was your gentle gift. Offered without fuss. Untrumpeted. In this ugly squall of…

  • Letter to a first love, long lost

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    In the cool exhalation of winter, when the first sighs of spring soften the evening, it is still you, walking with me in the slanted sunlight. My body remembers the season and the blossoms recall you with their perfume. At each inhalation, you approach, until I can feel your warmth. Present. Never having left. Years…

  • Love letter # 270

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    In the soft promise of your arrival, I am gently folding. Later, when the time for your departure nears, I shall yield once more.

  • Love letter # 818

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    You are the beauty that lingers, long after the moment has passed.

  • A light so bright I can’t see anything else

    A light so bright I can’t see anything else

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Visceral…spiritual. Transporting…transformative. Flying…falling…crying…joyous. Dissolving…disassembling. So open…absolutely everything flooding out. Nothing…nothing in the way. Annihilating the restraint of detail. A light so bright I can’t see anything else.

  • Love letter # 91

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    It can barely be spoken of; words I can hardly say, trembling on my tongue. Waves rising in my breathing, dams bursting in my speech. In this tidal swell I am erased. Made a space. Oh, please don’t fill me, leave me excavated. With your name, half uttered, broken on my lips, you wipe away…

  • Love letter # 799

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Subtle. Inescapable. This feeling that lives with me. My companion. Tracing my steps, following my line of sight. Moving to the rhythm of my breath. The me that isn’t me, yet is infused. Sweetness of my aching. Flavour of the space between – which vanishes at the speed of sensing. Oh you…nowhere, everywhere. All at…

  • Love letter # 530

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Between us, a pact, a language, a force. Ineffable. Undeniable. That thing we have. Our way of seeing. Bleeding. Though, at times, we differ, we remain the same. Because we know. Sometimes, it is a sound, the deep wave of a bell. At others, a translucence. Or a space, quiet and awesome. Our beautiful annihilation.…

  • For my secret love

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Though it remained unspoken – nary a whisper – it was never forgotten. Our brief salvation. Easy to regret now. The crush. The solace. Highs built on broken ground. A morning after so predictable. Breaking up under cover. The quiet agony of those seared by furtive fire. Did you ever confess? I didn’t. And won’t…

  • Love letter 969

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Young once. Alive, dangerous, enthralling. How readily I fell. Scarcely believing that one such as you would spare a second for someone like me. So long ago now. Dust gathered in the hollow of our ardour. Blurred memory in the place of blue sky hope. Yet I will not regret. Not ever. How could I?…