FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Smitten

  • Love letter # 348

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    With you…welcome, acceptance. Home. At last…seen, heard, believed. In you, I see my soul. The lighthouse. Here, it shines. Here. In the harbour, all oceans are crossed. In the quiet between us, everything is said. Now the distance contains our love. Now the mystery our knowing. There is no need for maps, nor excess confirmation.…

  • Love letter # 441

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Come to my arms unarmed. How could I resist such surrender? Wipe clean the histories of ego and disappointment. Melt into your embrace. Into the euphoria of danger. Such irresponsible flight, so far to fall. All these bones for breaking. Now I risk it all for the swoon of such temptation. Here, torched bridges, lighting…

  • 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 # 16

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    A thousand years ago, or so it seems, I held you ever so briefly, and you, blooming, melted with me. In the eye of a loving god we were one, formed together. Yet that was barely a flicker in the scorch of years. Seeing you now, everything altered, everything as it was, ancient tenderness fills…

  • Love letter # 803

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    It was all very sudden. I guess it had to be. Not so long ago I was someone else, now I am the one who loves you; and although I cannot say precisely what that means, the effect cannot be denied. If there had been a moment when I could have paused, I would most…

  • Love letter # 601

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    There is a language. I may once have been fluent. No more. All the signs are hieroglyphic. The gestures ambiguous. Today, I look at you and wonder. What is that smile, that look? Though I find myself wishing them hopeful, I remind myself that they are likely habit. A friendly disposition. An openness. Perhaps no…

  • Love letter # 588

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    I do not care what anyone says, yet I will listen first to you. Others may think what they like, but I would like to think you think fondly of me. You above others. Only you. I see the way you see. I move in the space you allow. In the silence you leave between…

  • 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 # 520

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    I ponder the Sanskrit word ‘namaha’ – not mine – and I remember that all is given; like your love. There was a moment, like a door, when you sat beside me, and I was not who I was the moment before.

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