Gabriela Marie Milton – Three Times #1 Amazon Bestselling Poet, Pushcart Nominee, Publisher
Very grateful to Brian Geiger – the editor of Vita Brevis Poetry Magazine – for publishing my poem “love letters” in his magazine.
i am looking over your love letters
my hands are shaking
winds are trying
to take them away from me
bury them
into the depths of the roiling ocean
i am fighting the winds…
continue reading here.
@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)
image: 3355m; Shutterstock; [link]
i’ll mix a quarter of the moon
with scents of azaleas bloom
i’ll add a pound of your own heart
mix it with a tarot card
think nights of passion soaked in sin
redemption mornings bathed in gleam
imagine her melting the snow
playing with the cupid’s bow
her eyes are healing your heart’s pains
her kisses flowing through your veins
the southern cross adorns her chest
a bird is flying from her nest
why is your face turning so red?
oh, no,
(voices lament in a shell)
you’re not supposed to fall in love with me
mistakenly (or not)
i murmured the wrong spell
@short-prose-fiction
image: hitdelight/shutterstock
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
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
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”
Come, red carnations stain the sheets
And candles flicker in the heavy silver
Red wine is breathing in the crystal glasses
Fine lace is flowing in the alcoves like a river.
Come, watch the shadows playing on the wall
When aromatic air is resting on the pillows
The Siamese is purring in her basket
And bowls are filled with reddish tamarillo.
Read the entire poem here