FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Sad

  • Love letter # 547

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Lately – cannot say why – I have sensed you like the presence of weather. Close like the tropical night. I have dreamt of you fifteen times; and there we have danced, like we never did. You kissed me in these visions as I still wish you would. And when my eyes are open, for…

  • Love letter # 546

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Autumn. Evening. Dusk like scented smoke. Soft chill. Like the way you once sighed; and I so nearly touched you. But didn’t. A petal shivering. Tear of dew on downy skin. As though anything firmer than quiet longing would turn the bloom to dust. I heard the wave of your breath crashing. The tide receding.…

  • Love letter # 828

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Congratulations. I wish you well. Both of you. Truly. It is good to be found. Having seen the truth of this, I would not wish it lost. And yet…everything else, which I need not repeat. For that which is unsaid is already known.   

  • Love letter # 629

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Once, in the garden of stars, it seemed like we were side by side – but that was a trick of the light. From the vantage of great distance alone did we appear together. Here, the space is beyond our measure. You are on the other side of the sky. I only know you by…

  • Love letter # 548

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Realising now. How I miss you. I thought I could walk away, but you are still with me. Coursing in my blood. In truth, you were my sanctuary. Now I feel exposed. Nearly raw. Yet really…it is not you; it is the feeling. I am sure I did not thank you enough for it. My…

  • Love letter # 524

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There is a tension in my jaw. It could be the fear of speaking up. So often we are punished for truth. Yet, if I reside in silence, what will it reveal? I can only guess how you might interpret it. For a state of not knowing is where I currently remain. Not being able…

  • Love letter # 667

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    The bells may not have rung for us, yet you will chime in my memory, like a wave beneath my skin, subtle and buried, but still there. Though you will likely forget, I will house the archive of tender seconds in the sediment of passing days. For the briefest moment I saw you and shed…

  • Love letter # 0707

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    14. That’s how many years. Since you sat across from me. Dissolved me in your gaze. Seems like forever now. Yet…but an instant. A thought. The triggering of a current in my wires. I may not be the same man, but the body holds the charge you left in me. The memory tells its story…

  • Love letter # 518

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    We said no, even though we were on the cusp of yes. Looking at old phone footage – the way we interact, how close we stand, the way our bodies seem to signal a kind of unity – I see it clearly. More than ever. But it wasn’t to be. Our unspoken dance dissipated, morphing…

  • Love letter # 551

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    We paused on the brink of forever and left with never. So close to everything yet ending with nothing. Had you leant in for that kiss, I would not be here now. And you? Where would you be tonight?