FREE LOVE LETTERS

Category: Spiritual

  • Love letter # 583

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Today it hurts. Feels like a spiral, something on repeat. As though fated. A punishment. But you can let it go. All of it. Imagine. There is a wave. Open out to it. Let it wash through. Strip away the layers. And it will. And when all the old rooms have been cleared, you will…

  • Love letter # 674

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    If I know anything, it is this: I am. But also, miraculously, I know that you know. Upon the brilliance of stars, I swear I could dissolve at the thought of this. Here come the tears. They are the euphoria of letting go. One day I will let it flood. Until then, the only thing…

  • A light so bright I can’t see anything else

    A light so bright I can’t see anything else

    —

    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Visceral…spiritual. Transporting…transformative. Flying…falling…crying…joyous. Dissolving…disassembling. So open…absolutely everything flooding out. Nothing…nothing in the way. Annihilating the restraint of detail. A light so bright I can’t see anything else.

  • Love letter # 91

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    It can barely be spoken of; words I can hardly say, trembling on my tongue. Waves rising in my breathing, dams bursting in my speech. In this tidal swell I am erased. Made a space. Oh, please don’t fill me, leave me excavated. With your name, half uttered, broken on my lips, you wipe away…

  • Love letter # 530

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Between us, a pact, a language, a force. Ineffable. Undeniable. That thing we have. Our way of seeing. Bleeding. Though, at times, we differ, we remain the same. Because we know. Sometimes, it is a sound, the deep wave of a bell. At others, a translucence. Or a space, quiet and awesome. Our beautiful annihilation.…

  • Love letter # 627

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    You whispered your secrets in another language, yet still I heard. I replied in my own fumbling tongue, yet you seemed to know. Even now, distant, your quiet murmurs echo in my heart. We may be apart, but still we move in time.

  • Unnumbered

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    Yes, even as the first letters emerge, this missive is redundant. A reduction. Language, a fraction. Unnecessary. Yet, these tools, inadequate, are what I have. For there is a voice, and it wishes to speak. Not so as to be heard, rather to feel what is being said. To be the channel. Bear witness. Here,…

  • Love letter # 127

    Love letter # 127

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in

    In the blue room, I fell for you. In the blue room, you lifted me up.

  • Love letter # 869

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    by

    Paul Ransom
    in ,

    Tonight…your embrace…the voluptuous song, the dance that nears delirium. I move in your permission, grateful traveller. I trace my nomad fortune on your skin. You breathe to let me in. Far from where I have come, I return. Home with you.   

  • 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,…