Tag Archives: Romantic love letters

For the beautiful strangers

Though we are yet to meet, and may never, I know, by instinct, precisely who you are. I see you, fully formed, in the blinding dazzle of sunlight. I feel you, present and textural, in the warm murmur of golden evenings. I sense your approach, rising, in the abundant promise of spring. Intoxicated, I can almost believe you are here.

Yet, I am too old not to know how unlikely this is. For we are rarely the people we dream ourselves to be, and the world has little room for the intemperance we conjure in the vale of our desire. Beauty, it appears, most often falls foul of detail; fantasy corrupted by its realisation.

My wise head knows this well, yet my heart remains fifteen. Despite everything, I still want to believe. I want you enter the room, so that I might fall at your feet. I yearn for all manner of surrender. To be overwhelmed. Redrawn in your colours. Constructed so as to include you.         

There is still space in the calm universe of my knowing for the disorder of belief. It reveals itself in the form of the light, its echoes shimmer in the shape of song. It is the unconquered territory. I stumble upon it in beauty, which, when I look, is everywhere.

I lift my eyes, and there…is it…?  

Love letter # 505

Being with you is like listening to The Ronettes. When you came into my life, so unexpected, I was transported, cast into flight, like the euphoric chorus of teenage pop songs. Now I am electrified, dizzied by an uncomplicated, plaintive yearning that feels like innocent joy. The ridiculous blush of it, the sunlit hope, as if heartbreak never brought me down. There are no words. It will not be described. It will rise instead, like a wave, and set me down in a world entirely altered. It is a new delirium. It is the age-old miracle of falling.

Love letter # 775

The memory lives in every cell, archived in muscle, carried by blood. The sheer sensation of you. That shattering instant of your arrival. Everything changing. A beam of light from your eyes. The space collapsing between us.

I knew what it was; yet had no idea. I simply stood in the line of your gaze – and there I was met by the transfigured world. Now it shone in the form of the other. Now it held more than I.

You stood two feet away. Your radiance surrounded me.

Decades later, I feel it like temperature. Here on my skin. In the rhythmic sigh of living. I am never more than a beat from your advent. The wave of your approach is moving through me. The spring is here, and you are the season.

It is like this every year.

Love letter # 513

Perhaps I do not know what love is – this complex, convoluted feeling we sometimes conjure – but I am certain that, whatever the philosophers say, I love you.

Is it a dream, a hormonal mechanism, a justification of my innate desire for validation? Will it fall apart under scrutiny, dissolving into observance? Are you my ritual partner?

However prosaic things appear, perhaps there is still chance for the poetry of suspended disbelief. If we call it into being by faith alone, at least it shall be of our making. Even if it be futile, still it may be wondrous.

Is this then, our love revealed? Weaver of song, transformer of night. I cannot say for sure where it may end, yet I can promise to begin. For with this trembling step I…

Love letter # 650

There is a moment, when the sun pierces clouds towards the close of a winter afternoon, that brings me to you. It is a fragile brightness. It is the colour of hope. A brief transportation to the richness of spring, to the sensual bake of summer. For though the dark and cold are quick to reclaim their ascendency, the vision will not be forgotten. The intoxicants of your sway, your glistening skin, your gaze. It takes but a murmur to form itself into song. A crisp beam of angled sun to illuminate the world. A turn of your head, a fraction of you. I need no other sign.

Love letters for coffee tables

Back in 2016 freeloveletters.net collaborated with Taiwan born, Melbourne based graphic designer Eric Huang – see: ericme.com – to create a coffee table book called ‘Modern Love: love letters from the 21st century’ using text from this site and images from both Paul Ransom and Eric. Two years on (and sans publisher) we’ve finally decided to share a few of our page layouts.

 

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