Summer Love #poem #poetic prose #short prose

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)

Late afternoon.
Heated streets.
On my left, red shapes of lips on the walls.
On my right, a few bodies looking for shade.
A white bird flies over the tower of the church.
A boy tries to bring it down with a stone.
Inside the supermarket I see…

please continue reading here

Thank you,
Love.
Gabriela

image: Ivailo Nikolov; Shutterstock; [link]

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

My poem Dark Love is now up at Vita Brevis Poetry Magazine.

green, you smell with your tongue
your thoughts pollinate mine
your fingers endanger the sailors
a water which opens its lips and drinks them
ah, hour of man
when did you become the hour of horrors?
a book cover reads: Dictionary of Superstitions
I see the girl who tears out…

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

Thank you.
Love.
Gabriela

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

featured image: Dmytro Vietrov; Shutterstock; [link]

My Dear Readers,

One of my favorite novelists once wrote:

The profoundest distances are never geographical.
― John Fowles, The Magus

Last night thinking of the friendships I have created on WP I wrote on a piece of paper: The profoundest friendships are never geographical. Perhaps even the profoundest loves are not geographical either.

I am humbled by the love and the support you have shown me. It is my joy to share with you my work and my journey as a writer. You all enrich my life. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Below please find the review of my book, Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings, done by Jo Niederhoff, and featured in the Manhattan Book Review. I am happy to share it with you with its good and its bad.

“I would expect a collection of love poems to be lush and indulgent… Gabriela Marie Milton’s collection, Passions, is no exception. Though each poem is short—most are no longer than a page—each is also a glimpse into a moment of beauty. Some poems are passionate, heat felt between every line. Others are more sedate, showing a calmer aspect of love. Still others are yearning, either for a love to come or for a love that has passed. No matter what mood you’re in, you’re sure to find something that will suit your need within these pages…”

Please continue reading here.

You can find my book featured in San Francisco Book Review here.

Thank you.
Love.
Gabriela

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

We desperately want to love, to possess each other, caught in a perpetual rush to justify our existence.
Yet there is no love that can fully satisfy us. The passions of the flesh get exhausted in bed. What is left is exhausted by our imagination.

Excerpt from my book Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings [on Amazon here].

My Dear Friends,
Thank you to everyone who reads my work. Your support means the world to me. Below please find the review of my book, Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings, in San Francisco Book Review.

“The series transports us on a journey of love as much as it delivers us a thematically diverse set of emotions. This is a superb collection.”
Bobbie Peyton

Please read the entire review here.

Thank you.
Love.
Gabriela

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

image: Liliya Kulianionak; Shutterstock; [link]

The forgetfulness of summer, a poem from my poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings [available on Amazon here]

On my left mountains of passion lost in lunar light.
On my right poetry.
An African violet beats her eyelashes.
Spanish moss lingers on the waters of the Bayou.
The smell of fresh cocoa penetrates my nostrils.
Old wounds crawl on my skin; columns of ants searching for honeydew on a tropical tree.
The forgetfulness of summer.
The silence of a blue lagoon.
You.

and another review of my book posted on an online forum on May 17th.

Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings was one of the most beautiful and well written collection of poems I have ever read. Each word was so perfect and beautiful, and the prose were wonderful. With each installment of the prose it added puzzle pieces to a stunning love story with what looks to be a dramatic love triangle between friends….
Please read the entire review here

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

image: Liliya Kulianionak; Shuterstock; [link]

He stepped into a space governed by love and hate at the same time. He did not understand how these two concepts melted into each other by means of interplay.

Light and darkness adorning the shoulder of the woman who wakes up in the arms of her lover. There is no distinction between the two. Both mold the roundness of her shoulder with its naked softness and its distinct sharpness. During the nights in which the moon is glossy and crisp like the crust of a country bread, the woman’s body gives birth to mountain chains and fragrant valleys.

The world remains the same as two lovers riveted onto themselves.

I know he loved me. Yet his mind was too pedestrian to understand.

excerpt from my book in progress: Remembrance of Love [working title]

My book, Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings, is available on Amazon here.
Please read my 2019 Author of the Year Interview at Spillwords Press here.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

image: Agnieszka Barbara; Shutterstock [link]

Skeletal fragments of coral and mollusks glued by calcite.

Limestone giving birth to grays, beige, and blue.

Your eyes as green as the grass on the dewy morning when slithering snakes were driven into the sea.

Tears on your cheeks. I wipe them with my palms.

The desire to rebuild your soul. I cannot stop it. I am like those women who think that their naked thighs and transparent negligées can fix a broken heart. In fact, I am worse than them. I think I can fix your soul.

I love you. Yet, my instincts are those of a simple worshiper of reality. There is no sanctity in them.

Oh, indulgence of the self, how ignorant we are.

My poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings featured in San Francisco Book Review.

Love.
Gabriela

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

image: Sandratsky Dmitriy; Shutterstock; [link]

I learned how to master my loneliness.
Madness has become my profession.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

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