FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Nostalgic

  • Love letter # 582

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Time heals, so they say, yet it does not erase. For it is hard to delete an absence. Much has changed since we parted ways but the valley you carved has remained. It traces the frontier in my life. Before/after. In truth, I never got over it. Yes, I moved on, I functioned, and I…

  • 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 # 818

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

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

  • 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?…

  • Love letter # 742

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    The evening was soft. As you once sighed. The pop songs played, the voices grew loud, the drinks flowed. Meanwhile, the air…somehow redolent of you. A tactile transportation. Under the cover of noise, I slipped away. To be with you again. Alone.

  • And it shall flow eternally

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    My final words will be your name. I shall whisper the syllables slowly. They will remind me of soft breeze. The nigh inaudible rustle of leaves. I will pause to savour the rounded sensation in my mouth; like the sweet opium plume, and the drowsy bliss of inhale…exhale. There, to the deepening bell of your…

  • Love letter # 92

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    It lives in my body. The space. Not as pain or weight, but as gentle vacuum. And only when I look at it. Like now. Feeling you near and far. The sound of your name as I breathe it. Whispers in a half understood language. Tears of joy and sorrow. Swoon of separation. Writing these…

  • Love letter # 158

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I had no idea I would miss you like this. Quietly, deeply. With a palpable wrench. Not painful, per se, but undeniable. At odd moments, scattered, I feel as though I still walk your streets, still hear your language; and I ache to spend another hour on your shore. We did not know each other…

  • Love letter # 94

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Now…so far away, I sense you near. Subtle gravity. Absent presence. A part of me still resides with you. Something left behind. Will I ever return to collect it? Or will this paper cut bleed until I am dry? Shall they bury me in the ground of your memory? Today, I cannot say. I walk…