I am an external representation I ask questions about the internality of things the sweetness of berries on my tongue the anarchy of flesh during torrid nights blindfolded by you I cry the rustle of fresh ivy the unspoken unbound in my blood mi amor turn around
I am thrilled my poem On Sacrifice and Meaning was included in Vita Brevis Anthology: Sight & Swept Away. Congratulations to the editor – Brain Geiger – and to my fellow poets who are published in this anthology.
On Sacrifice and Meaning by Gabriela Marie Milton (snippets)
Because I love you, I learned the meaning of sacrifice. …..
It is autumn; an autumn that came too soon and whose suicidal breath brought dust and diseases. The lamb will be born in the spring. …….
I try to advance but the liquid silver pulls me back. I cut its hands with a knife. Every cut fulfills the dreams of the knife; my dreams are still in the waiting room. …..
I rub my cheeks with rosemary and wrap my body in the alphabet of love. On my lips the unspoken words shine. How beautiful they make me look.
I restore the degradation of our myth to its rightful fecundity. The sacrifice becomes a festival, and the festival turns into creation.
If you missed yesterday’s anthology announcement, you can find it here. Today, your poetry ranked as the #2 bestseller in the new release poetry anthology category!
I can’t thank the Vita Brevis community enough. This type of performance is what keeps Vita Brevis reading-fee free. Thanks for making poetry publication accessible to everyone, and for keeping this little publication running.
And congratulations on almost becoming bestselling poets — let’s get up to #1!
and you my love who know that spring has come peaches grow on one side of the moon injured lambs scream on the other taste of strawberries my hair freshly cut herds of feelings return in the night from the waters possessed by new ghosts we look for each other the baptism of rain and thin yellow candles a verse from Seferis bites from my lips the Easter of Roses with its cold morning showers never to sin your hands nailed in white marble the rode of your anchor my love it’s spring it’s me free your hands from the marble
inside the altars of the churches with blue cupolas he recounts the spring cuckoo’s notes his cries strip him of himself modify his flesh until the days are born from the wounds of his feet daughter of this earth I can hear his bones cracking with love for you his voice made from curses and myrrh his body stretched between heaven and the bloom of the olive trees his retina caught inside the limonite of the yellow marble everything speaks of the impossibility of tomorrow daughter of this earth you who travel in the lands of the snakes with no name and shed your skin and your beauty in every sunset you are the virginal sin in the nights of the hyacinths show mercy go back to him the resurrection is near
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Included in my poetry collection Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings.
perhaps I was bewitched by the North Star or by a ballad as dateless as my blood geography of feelings populates unwanted interludes my eyes, the nests of dewy grass and leaves emerald eyelashes flaunt black taffeta chirps between my fingers like piano keys inside my soul your kisses soar soft lilac tones like prayers of the youngest nun perhaps because I read your poetry last night and cut my soul between a stanza and a strife perhaps a child played with a kite a kingdom for a sup maybe it was the wind that woke me up