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]

the last love # love poem #poetry — Short Prose

Via short-prose-fiction

I eat macaroons in the same coffee shop
Roberto’s guitar sells cheap dreams by the sea
young girls are ready for harvest like flowers of lust
I laugh…
I scratch poetry on a glass
I say the first love is French
you ask how’s the last
it smells raspberries, vanilla, and grass
you touch my left wrist
I play a few cards
red flowers bloom on your cheeks
your teeth peel the skin of my gloves
you walk into darkness
I seal you on in wax
how’s the last love?
pray..
you shouldn’t have asked

@short-prose-fiction (Gabriela M)

I eat macaroons in the same coffee shop
Roberto’s guitar sells cheap dreams by the sea
[…]

the last love # love poem #poetry — Short Prose

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

Art #short prose #prose poem — Short Prose

He hunted for reasons upon which he could build his resolutions.

He hunted in the wrong place for art is not the space of reason, nor is a ratio of whole numbers.

Art is the space in which the profane lays so close to the divine that one would rather find room to breathe through the eye of a needle than to separate the two.

And so is love.

@short-prose-fiction(Gabriela M)

Art #short prose #prose poem — Short Prose