The Angel of God #poem #prose poem #short prose #flash fiction — Short Prose

The Angel of God #poem #prose poem #short prose #flash fiction

He comes back only when the Angel of God makes blue and yellow rings fall asleep on my fingers.
One night he swore his oaths upon our unmade bed and the river Styx.
His guitar swore its oaths upon a red rose.
This is not the time of year when his tears – chariots of fire – fall from the sky.
Neither that day of spring when I lie in bed covered by wedding veils.
Those are the only times when his soul plays guitar behind the Japanese screen in my bedroom.
You couldn’t hear him playing in the library.
So, what did you really hear?
Do you believe that his ghost hides inside his portrait hanging on the wall?
Oh, no! This is not a Harry Potter fantasy. His soul is not inside any portrait.
Now, I think it’s time for you to leave.
Why? Are you asking me why?
You saw the inscription below his portrait: granted just a quote he loved.

There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.

Here’s your answer. You can’t do any of those things. So, you better leave.
No, his soul wasn’t here tonight.
Tonight, it is I who speaks, not him.

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

Short Prose
image: Anna Ismagilova; Shutterstock; [link]
quote attribution: Lawrence Durrell, Justine

The Angel of God #poem #prose poem #short prose #flash fiction — Short Prose

Outstanding work Gabriela

Syllogism of Lust

Syllogism of Lust

I follow you onto old streets
hermetic sealers, principles of dark
alchemy, the name of you and me
windows of the courtesans from Syracuse
on which some neophytes waste their time
a boat which never leaves the shore
my body, syllogism of lust
fertility of the flatlands
disoriented rivers confluent on maps
the seventh circle turns into the eighth
don’t stop
people like money, they don’t like art
the wisdom of old sages hidden in plain sight
I wasn’t Beatrice
I should have been
forgive me father, for I’ve sinned
inside the gnostic bridal chamber
I fell in love with him

Found at

written by: Gabriela M

With this ring I promise you – Gabriela M.

with this ring 

I promise you 

I will erase the shadows of the slave trade 

locked in the heat of samba in the nights of carnival

coins put on the eyes of dead at funerals

-forgotten tickets of the unforgotten underworld- will shine like stars

with stolen leaves from the old olive tree

I’ll wash your temple covered by the sand and blood of the bullfights 

and mend the bones of sugar skulls spread on the Aztec lands  

I will return your boat to shore with one single I love you

in dark I will immerse your soul into the waters of Guadalquivir 


when the ocean laments in the purple of sunsets

the orange-yellow striping of green anacondas fades in dust 

when phantoms intoxicated by the worlds of purple belladonnas and of grass

grasp in search of a tomorrow that may never come

I’ll draw the road of love on your old navigation maps

the burning of the boats will stop

and moons will drop blueberry honey on your face and palms

with this ring

made from the muscle of my lively heart

I promise I will love you till the end

when you will travel the whole earth

in search of that which is the scent of me


A deep one. Fully enjoying feels.