FREE LOVE LETTERS

Author: Paul Ransom

  • Love letter # 31

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    When first I loved you, it was not you. It was the ideal. The one you could never be. Later, tarnished, I tried to force you into shape. Until I woke up. At which point you were saying goodbye. Now, divorced of need, I call out the tyranny of fantasy. I say to the dream:…

  • Love letter # 984

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There is no way of knowing, no safe path; only the risks of yes and no. The question for you and I is which. What side of the coin? Heads or hearts? Neither is right, neither is wrong. Both are an expression of gravity. Shall we land together? Or should we fall apart? This is…

  • Love letter # 657

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Did I love you in ways I should not have? Quite likely. Here then, the ruins of my desire. Souvenirs of a particular derangement. Wounds or treasure? Both. Pride has primed me for this fall. Thank you for setting me down.

  • A shout-out to my favourite ghosts

    A shout-out to my favourite ghosts

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Thank you for leaving without notice It happens to all of us. People leave. Emails bounce. Calls do not get returned. Today, we call this ghosting. Yet, it is nothing new. Relationships, however close and seemingly unbreakable, have always existed on the edge of ending. The inspiration for this piece arrived on New Year’s Eve,…

  • Love letter # 383

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    So, you’re wondering why I left early, without saying goodnight. Simple. You in that dress. Too much. Couldn’t bear it. Not the thought of no – which I know already – but the dread of hope. Easier to walk away. Better for both of us.

  • Love letter # 87

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Before I became the fool I am now, I too was foolish. Like you, I stumbled, believing the fiction, the myth of lovers. Entranced, unseeing, I ran into the wall of folly. There I was burned alive, and put others to the flame. I broke all my promises and was, in turn, let down. Thereafter,…

  • Love letter # 327

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    You are my solstice, the extreme instant, the full extension. This, perhaps, my act of madness. Here, at the edge, everything might buckle. How I wish it would. Oh now, if you will, obliterate the in-between. Devastate the daily for a second of wildness. There is no consensus here, no pale diplomacy. Scorch it in…

  • Love letter # 424

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    This is where it ends. The years. My complicity. For a long while I believed you. After that, I merely wished not to disbelieve. Then I saw too clearly. I contemplated fury; was tempted by the colder unfurling of vengeance. Instead, I played a longer game, and you, righteous and entitled, stumbled towards this moment.…

  • Love letter # 144

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I notice the space. Quiet vacancy. The calm of time. Yet I see these things with you still in them. Just a trace. The scent of a single flower. How great it was to love you.

  • Love letter # 894

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Of all the things I have fallen short in, loving you is the most telling. It is not your accusative snarl that cuts, it is the pain it voices. The awful wrench that separates dream from reality, expectation from delivery. The mirage has resolved to thirst, and I too am parched. We may all be…