adiós #poem #poetic prose #short prose

Drops of you and me in the winter of our love.

Beneath my vocal cords, fingers knead the tongues of your kisses with the smell of wine.

Our souls dismembered by pasts that do not intersect; creators of a love as elusive as my adiós.

Tea leaves tell our future.

Your steps hang in the streets like the breasts of the earth under a bittersweet sky.

Your face grows washerwoman skin.

The land imprisons me.

I cry.

Las lágrimas del mar.

You and I.

My poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings is available on Amazon here

image: Liliya Kulianionak; Shutterstock; [link]

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

we ate Czech goulash and dumplings
drank Pilsner and smoked cigarettes
in a garden by St. Nicholas Church
I dragged you with me on a bench
your skin and your kisses were fresh
contouring each other: bark and heartwood
awe-struck we stood and bowed when love came
I saw what one sees in the light
you felt what one feels in the dark
it smelled linden trees and drizzled confetti
we tied our wrists with ropes made of blood
buried our hearts in mountains and rivers
made love on the soul of the seventeen bridges
bathed in the river Bohemia coughed
died the next morning in front of the Castle
and in the City of the Thousand Spires
not even the pigeons noticed a thing

My poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings is available on Amazon here .
Passions featured in San Francisco Book Review
Passions featured in Manhattan Book Review.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

If only I could put my palm into yours for one single sunset

when the autumn’s fingers smell corn silk,

and the eyelids of the sea cast spells on the cheeks of the stars.

Bathe with me at the end of the shore

where milk foam washes the feet of the children

and leaves traces of white shivers.

A pink conch tolls the waves announcing the homecoming of the chrysanthemums.

The pain of birth leaks prayers on your lips

like half naked Sundays leak monotony and coolness

on the yellow walls of the old city.

From the other side of your naked eyes,

I gather your tears in a wicker basket.

Laurel leaves hide under your pillow.

If only…

Autumn…

My poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings is available on Amazon here .
Passions featured in San Francisco Book Review
Passions featured in Manhattan Book Review.

Thank you.
Love.
Gabriela.

image: Velenty, Shutterstock, oil painting.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

My Dear Readers,

I was not planning to post today but news came last night that my poem “Son of the Desert” (by Gabriela M) was nominated for Publication of the Month at Spillwords Press NYC.

Congratulations to all nominees!

You can read my poem here.

Please vote here.

You don’t need a Spillwords account to vote though it is easy to open one. You can vote with your Twitter or your FB account.

I will be delighted to have your vote. However, you should feel free to vote for whomever you think is deserving. All nominees are fantastic writers.

The voting will begin on the 26th of each month at 12:00am Easter Time
The voting will last for 4 Days.

On November 2019 my poem The Breath of Love and Death was voted Publication of the Month at Spillwords.
In the beginning of 2020 I was voted Author of the Year at Spillwords Press. You can read my Author of the Year interview here.

Thank you.
Love
Gabriela

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

White.
We drank two lemonades sweetened with honey at the old terrace by the church.
My body arched like a branch under the heaviness of cherry fruit.
I read from a book by Odysseas Elytis.
You smiled and listened.
The skies sighed.
The bells tolled twice.
Flowers silhouetted against my blood.
Wishes blossomed in…

please continue reading with WP here
or
at Vita Brevis Press here.

My poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings is available on Amazon here .
Passions featured in San Francisco Book Review
Passions featured in Manhattan Book Review.

Thank you.
Love.
Gabriela.

featured imagine: Mikalojus Konstantinas Ciurlionis – Spring Motif

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

The smell of freshly baked bread in the nights when the ocean howls.

The moon’s eyes linger on my neck.

The kitchen is hot.

Your eyes rest on the buttons of my dress.

One eye faces the sacred.

The other craves for the profane.

I call into being the taste of that which is hidden below the existence.

Touches.

Self-indulgence.

The breath of a salty ocean on the skin.

Everything is here between primal and the infinity of possibilities: the epistemes of love; the essence of beauty; the whispers of a language you cannot understand.

You need me in your bones.

The moon needs me in her naked light.

My poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings is available on Amazon here .
Passions featured in San Francisco Book Review
Passions featured in Manhattan Book Review.

image: Mariia aiiraM; Shutterstock; [link]

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

The air is still like the minutes before confession.
The cloak shrouds me.
On the second breath of the Easter of Roses I walk to the outskirts of your love.
A violin exults fires upon darkness.
In one single stoke your passion consumes and shuns me.
The chambers of my heart resound.
Reds prevent you from understanding how much I love you.
Double stop.
Movements.
My eyes are the eyes of the Sphinx
I wait.

My book, Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings, can be ordered here.

Thank you.
Gabriela

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

My Dear Readers,

I am thrilled to introduce you to a wonderful writer Ishita Gupta.

In her own words Ishita “is a girl who chooses to explore and experience her life through words. Born and brought up in India, she is an avid reader, feminist, and a biology student. Ishita is also trained in a form of Indian classical dance, Kathak, and is currently learning contemporary dance style. When she writes, Ishita channels her hidden emotions, and tries to create a change in the society. She shares her thoughts at her blog Thoughts Resonate.”

Please take a minute and visit her site. It will make me and Ishita very happy.
Thank you.
Gabriela

Who am I?
by Ishita Gupta

A wilted flower on the sidewalk
A lone tear amidst many
I seem to have lost my essence
In life’s unfair journey.

Who am I?

A thorn in a basket of flowers
A black smear on white
In my relentless pursuit of happiness
I’m stuck somewhere between the lines.

Who am I?

A bug drenched in rain
A torn page of a book
I can only see grief
Everywhere I look.

Who am I?

A dove without wings
A lock without a key
I am on a lost track that leads
To the inner depths of the seas.

Who am I?

featured image provided by Ishita.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

That summer love burned us until our skin became tranquilized.

We were ready to receive.

None of us cared about the danger of the thousand apples from which we bit.

Poetry?

Oh, poetry was too good to be read.

We tasted it and ate it with silver spoons.

All filtrations of the mind and senses hid in small apple bites and scented flowers.

By dusk we exhausted everything with our breath.

The children’s voices vanished into the dark.

The doubt of too much spilled between us like ashes from a broken urn.

Summer love.

featured image: Separisa; Shutterstock; [link]

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

Bones, blood, flesh trapped in a brilliant moonlight.

The sand of the shore carried faraway by translucent tongues of water.

Around me the mint grows taller than the trees; lassitude turning from gold to red.

Eyes become the locus where the desert and the sea meet.

Imprinted on my body the number twelve; the twelve horses of the sun-chariot.

He, the seller of time, looks at me.

His voice penetrates the membranes of my cells.

One hour of impossible love for two dimes.

I, who can foresee the future, buy.

The hour wraps around my hips like a passion vine around a tree.

For a second you, the lover of the visible world, hesitate.

Streets inundated by the sweet smell of citrus.

Arms hugging a void.

You cannot eat that citrus and you cannot touch me.

Moonlight love, remind me, why did I buy you?

My poetry collection, Love Poems and Other Writings, available on Amazon here and featured in San Francisco Book Review and Manhattan Book Review.

image: Liliya Kulianionak; Shutterstock; [link]

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

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