i cry tonight
the cries she couldn’t cry
and within the fury
of his lie which grips
i see the four horsemen
of the apocalypse
@short-prose-fiction
apocalypse #poetry
Month: September 2018
cries #poetry
Anabella who sold papers
cries because her lover left
my soul hurts
my eyelids close
her hand is dry
i dive
into her painful voice
there is no bottom
it is dark
how many tears
did she cry?
@short-prose-fiction
image: bruniewska/Shutterstock
first published in The Literati Mafia
autumn day #poetry
i met you on an autumn day
when Anabella
was selling papers in the street
you looked at me with fervid eyes
and I knew then
you’d never leave
@short-prose-fiction
first published in The Literati Mafia
image: legenda/Shutterstock
Lack of Boundaries # Excerpt from the manuscript Glass Lovers (66 words)
Jacques, Miriam, Miguel, and I: What can I say?
As time passed we became like tropical lianas hanging on a giant tree. We used to think that it was the tree of friendship and love.
*
Once Jacques said:
“It is nonchalance that destroys love and friendship.”
To which Miguel replied:
“No, it is the lack of boundaries.”
Time was going to prove him right.
*draft
@short-prose-fiction
image: KireevArt/Shutterstock
balkan musing #poetry
in an unknown country in the Balkans
in which once i left my heart
dogs are howling at the moon
political unrest is growing
metempsychosis spreads like fire
i say no
when you say yes
and the outcome is dire
forever love #poetry
my love,
receive my spade and take my cross
my heart will always be with you
i’m going to the realm of the unknown
remember me from time to time
on torrid nights
when conjured Spanish fountains
softly moan in pain.
my love for you will shine in every star
and it will be in every cloud you see
now time has come to swear to me
my beauty from the lands i’ve never known
that you’ll remember
stars are far
enemies by you
*
@short-prose-fiction
imagine: Elijah Lovkoff/Shutterstock
hello miss (hola señorita) #poetry
travelers in colored carts
head to roads of no return
a fortune teller speaks of love
milk and honey wait for me
mama’s young
the lilac is in bloom
the hands of the rose garden
wave to me
i turn the key of the blue room
the time leaps forward
and i walk the streets of old Granada
swollen dreams of paintings and guitars
i stumble on your body’s heat
your arm rises in the air
your eyes gleam cinnamon and green
your laughter cracks the galaxies
“hola señorita
you grew up
just to meet me”
cry #poetry
i cry on empty corridors
the silence of the mud you left behind
callousness bites from my arm
arrogance looks in my eyes
my foot slips
my lips are numb
a moment only
for tomorrow
it will come