FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Philosophical

  • Your beauty is a form of suffering

    Your beauty is a form of suffering

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    NB: This piece was first published on our sister site, As If You Were Listening, and it was subtitled, A Meditation on Seasons. Behold: beauty in the form of you. How could I fail to notice? Yet, from your embrace I will surely be excluded; and there is nearly nothing I can do about it.…

  • Thank you & sorry

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    NOTE: Even though the landing page suggests that I am the author here, this post was originally published on the blogsite of R Prakash Rao. With their permission, I hereby share it with you. (Not sure why I was prevented from listing RPR as an author.) And that evening, I waited to see you. To…

  • Love letter # 66

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    In the end, it was too much. There was not a single cause, rather an accumulation, an erosion. Perhaps it was merely the result of growing up and apart. Or maybe we got off on the wrong foot, dazzled by lust, sold on the romantic ideal. Reality, it would now appear, showed us for who…

  • Love letter # 543

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    The sun was less incisive today. As I walked in your shadow. First sight of autumn. In the full bright of summer.

  • 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

    —

    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

    —

    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.