I am thrilled that my two poems Prayer and A Night of Marble and of Gingerbread were included in Issue I of Free Verse Revolution: Hebe (the fountain of youth)

Prayer
by Gabriela Marie Milton

you, fountain of youth,
forgive me
I am the one made from mud and from the skin of Attica’s
flutes
at night, my existence feels like an impertinence or
perhaps like an interlinear
a language half-imagined
half adulterated
by the bloom of the olive trees under the sticky wing of an
angel
I was born in the swamps where the tombs of the prophets
sunk
I am blood and bones when I smell the sea and the meat
from the grill
church bell toll and speak of death, and of the mystique of
oblique winds
you, goddess of youth,
source of life from where four rivers flow
your child-like body
stands some days on the top of the mountains
and others on the top of the fountains
your skin is dewed and flowered with love
my skin haunts the night of the deserts
your destiny is that of the innocents
mine is that of the sinners
forgive me, you, Hebe
that I do not ask for the gift of youth
give it to the children
give it to the sick
and throw what is left into the sea
the fish will be happy

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A Night of Marble and of Gingerbread
by Gabriela Marie Milton

on the top of the mountain
the pines silhouette against the whisper of the rocks
the night is cut from marble, and from gingerbread
the wind stops on a branch touched by a naked star
I take the measure of that which forever youth gives
red poppies that never wither
seeds that never impregnate the ground
a love that still plays with toys,
and lights candles in a Christmas tree in the middle of
summer
the moon is mortal and concerned with trivial matters
and so am I
Hebe,
how many know that you are the bud of incest and
patricide?
how many know your child’s eyes witnessed so many
crimes?
filled with pain, you stop growing up, isn’t it so?
oh, don’t cry
here is my impermanent heart
wear it for one day
in the morning you will see the old oak dying in the rain
at noon butterflies will sit on your hair
in the night a Lethean forgetfulness will lecture on the
beauty of transitory love
kisses will feel like honey on the tongue
the breath of love will rest on your skin
you will grow up
what?
you do not want your forever youth back?
dream
it’s spring

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You can download the entire issue for free here

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Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings featured in San Francisco Book Review and Manhattan Book Review.

@Gabriela Marie Milton