seduction – Short Prose

#poem #poetry

Via short prose from March 4, 2020 
undefined

the rhythm of castanets awakens the moon
on opal rings your kisses spin
a cricket’s hitting a crescendo
waves tattoo dark shadows on your skin
sonority, you who vibrates the souls
of those who haunt at night the Port of Cartagena

I toss in smells of apricots and plumes
the Hand of Fatima takes off my veils
your forehead sinks into the sweat of lovers
who sever their veins
oh, dream of the unknowns,
you, latency,
the sigh of blood which flows
in spring both mud and flowers grow

didn’t you know
that when you said I love you
you stepped on roads of fables and folk tales?
you glued your heart onto a purple sunset
smells of lilac and of roses, impregnated strolls,
seduction,
it wasn’t me
it was you who stole his soul

Published by Spillwords on June, 4 2019; included in my upcoming poetry book Passion: Love Poems and Other Writings.
Passion: Love Poems and Other Writings also includes several poems translated in Italian by Flavio Almerighi. I am most grateful to Flavio for his magnificent translations. For more poetry in Italian please visit Flavio’s site here

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M) pingback dear.

Another great piece…
I hope you didn’t mind my nearly facetious teasing a bit on the previous reblog.. Just wanted to get folks attention about the click being more important than a like.

image:  Anna Ismagilova; Shutterstock; [link]

A whole week #flash fiction #short prose — Short Prose

Via: A whole week — Short Prose

A whole week.

Seven agonizing nights; seven suffocating nights rushing over me, parching my soul with their torrid breezes.
Myriads of mosquitoes murmuring in the dark, looking for prey: my own flesh, my own blood.

Nights extending their heavy tentacles over the city, strangling it as a venomous octopus; abandoning it at sunrise lacking vigor, emptied of hopes, filled with trash.

Glued to my body, lace and silk soaked in perspiration: fingers of delirious passions looking for my skin.  

In this city clocks have no hands, years have no months, months have no days.  Outside of time, this city is innocent, perverse, philosophical, suicidal.

Shadows of your eyes

Fragments of your love.  

Dark.

image: Guryanov Andrey; Shutterstock; [link]

short prose from – Passions: Love Poems and Other Writings:
available for pre-order on March 30th.
publication date April 30th.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela Marie Milton)

Your thoughts … ❤