FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Amorous

  • Love letter # 752

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    In the flush of this desire, I vanish. There is only falling. I have tried to rationalise it, explain it away, but longing is a language beyond the temptation of thought. Yet, I shall not call it madness, nor offer it as absolution. If, in its wildness, it feels compelled to feed, then let it…

  • Love letter # 869

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Tonight…your embrace…the voluptuous song, the dance that nears delirium. I move in your permission, grateful traveller. I trace my nomad fortune on your skin. You breathe to let me in. Far from where I have come, I return. Home with you.   

  • 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.

  • VIDEO: Love letter # 15

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    On November 28, 2010, we first posted Love Letter # 15 to this blog. Like the site itself, it was inspired by a woman we had loved madly. At the time of its original uploading, she and I were still (rarely) in contact. The fire had died; or rather, it was one-sided. An inferno in…

  • Love letter # 365

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Subtly. Nearly undetected. You touched me thus. Shiver on the surface of skin. Perfume in the air. The texture of longing. A brief sense of falling. Tightening. Like a breath suspended. In the orbit of desire I circle. In your wake I have trembled, close to undone. Have I imagined your attention, falling on me…

  • Love letter # 1001

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Shall we apply the old standards…or would you like to break with convention? We could, of course, repeat old patterns. Bring the grime of history to our table. Start with a spark, end with a smear of ash. Rub more salt in. Or we could choose something else. But that is just fighting talk; and…

  • Love letter # 568

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    What I like most about you is your electricity. Your energy, your vivacity, the way you shine at night. Though this can be alienating, and hard to keep up with, it is never dull. You have a splendid movement, a form of aliveness that draws me in. Even when I turn my eyes from you,…

  • Love letter # 527

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Because I had no other way, I arranged coincidences. It was not difficult. Our routines made it easy for me to be at the same cafeteria, to catch the same train. We would talk and I would wonder. Could I make you notice me? Did you see what I saw? Then our fingers touched. Barely…

  • Love letter # 612

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    There was a time when I would have said it – I love you – but now I do not know what this means. It used to seem obvious, but in hindsight perhaps it was simply a conflation of lust and other conditions. Now, with you, what I can say is that, whatever you wish…

  • Love letter # 922

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    You/not you. I/not I. Outlines of a sketchily remembered tryst. Me on the dancefloor. You on the tennis court. A few bright days. Even fewer nights. Your eyes searching me. Was I the one? Were you? No…as we soon discovered. A spasm of lust – lips and hips and hands – but not love. Not…