FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 267

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I was so lucky to know you, let alone be anywhere near you. You showed me things I never even dreamt of – dances I never imagined. There are things in my life now – ideas, ways of being, feelings – that never existed before your beautiful eyes set fire to my complacency. In your…

  • Love letter # 237

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I should leave now. I have started to imagine you using your body in that way – how you would move. Sound. Sigh. This places me in an untenable position. I can barely bring myself to look at you, let alone carry on conversation.

  • Love letter # 126

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I thought I had it boxed. Funny how the slightest touch can bring the whole castle crashing. You only had to smile.

  • Love letter # 172

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    In the autumn of your ardour I am already starving. The tide has turned. Inexorable momentum. And today – your scalpel tongue. Almost vivisecting. Leaving a bruise. Things are different now. The space between us has changed. Light has become the memory of light. And we cannot change each other back. We’re here now. What…

  • Love letter # 123

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    When it ends, as I know now that it must, I will not fight. Not because I have no strength but because love is not a victory – no matter how great the ache of its loss. Saddened though I am by the dimming of the light, no amount of protest will prevent the coming…

  • Love letter # 162

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    What did I do before you? I don’t know. What on earth was I filling my time with? Just stuff, it seems. Distractions. Noise. I thought I was so smart, so cool, so together. It was all vanity. Not worthless entirely – but nothing like now. I knew, on the night we kissed, exactly what…

  • Love letter # 122

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    It is good to be reminded that I am not everything; that the popular ‘vale of illusion’ fantasy which posits a self-centric universe is itself an illusion – a fetish of hubris and extravagant denial. There is something other than me. At the very least, you. You are not simply a means for me to…

  • Love letter # 161

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I wanted to reach across the void tonight. I wanted to break the trance of wondering. It was in my bones, in my blood, in the tips of my fingers – the sheer power of you. I wanted you like certainty. Like all of history. My longing was like the earth itself, ancient and deep…

  • Love letter # 185

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I have tried not to see your beauty. Not to have it blazing in my eye. Not to see your lovely mouth, nor to smell your honey skin. Not to think of how your hand would feel, nor fix upon your hips. Not to watch you dance like that. Not to share your drink. Not…

  • Love letter # 86

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I climbed the misty hill to feel your rain about my shoulders. You settled gently on my skin. I walked along the forest floor to hear the sound of your life around me. It filled me up with song. I was tempted by the fruit you grew. When I bit your sugars flowed. I swam…