FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Philosophical

  • Love letter # 611

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    There is a break-up arithmetic. It is an accounting of sorrows, a logging of bruises. As though the tagging of evidence might alter anything. As if the apportioning of blame can dam the flow of blood. This is the useless math of injustice and validation. The numbers say almost nothing about the skin in the…

  • Love letter # 174

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Why? Is there a more useless question?

  • There will be no distance

    There will be no distance

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    What if I have no energy left for this? What if it’s all cost, and no reward? Shall I just keep trying and trying and hoping for a different result? I know I am not perfect. I could have taken a different approach. Maybe I am too impatient. Maybe my expectations, which seem so small…

  • Love letter # 633

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    In a way, this is useless. Only words. A performative version of reality. Post. The true ground is more textured. Soil more complex. Process convoluted, ongoing. There is no pinning down, no containing with cute phraseology. My heart is not a meme. How I feel about you – us – is not a storybook. At…

  • Love letter # 190

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Wasn’t always like this, was it? Used to feel effortless. Natural. We always found a way. Now we get lost. Fight over the map. Go round in circles. Spiral. Could it be we over-reached? Set a bar so high we were bound to stumble? In all likelihood we will never find out. Instead, we will…

  • 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 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 # 602

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    We all love. At least until we are broken. All of us give and, in turn, will be forsaken. We each have wounds, and leave our scars on others. You and I were no different. Ordinary angels. Fallen once more. Across the beautiful brutality of time, with futile longing, I sense your impossible distance. And…

  • Love letter # 103

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Two days ago, everything was in its place. Yesterday, there was a storm, and everything got smashed. Today, sea and sky are calm, as though wind and rain never happened. The world turns. Hours tick by. People go about their business. We are nothing. Was any of it real, or did the dream simply crumple…

  • Love letter # 1007

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Arrange a coincidence. Some scene. We meet by chance. Even the light is right. Time shrinks to now. Us. Perhaps this is it. The becalmed seconds of recognition. The rest, our numerous fictions, our practise of denial. So I will say only this…let us stand awhile in the sunlight and, for a warm, slow minute,…