Gabriela Marie Miltonさんのプロフィール画像

Gabriela Marie Miltonさんのイラストまとめ


#1 bestselling #poet, #publisher, award winning author, 2022 Pushcart Nominee amazon.com/stores/Gabriel…
shortprose.blog

フォロー数:9005 フォロワー数:18562

An dewy morning
Slithering snakes driven into the sea
Then an excruciating sunset crosses its fingers
I tempt fate
A rose contours the shape of my thighs
Red
Dissimulation of an afternoon sacrifice
The sky dies in the convulsions of your "whys"
Why, love?

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you never say my name
a lonely stocking
falls in lassitude
Sundays leak monotony and coolness
of winds
the perfection of the afternoon's poplars
dreams are blue
this spring will come
without you

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My fav poet is Rimbaud with his "A thousand Dreams within me softly burn" & "I shed more tears than God could ever have required"

Once I wrote: "I've never outside of your obsession with me; an obsession that arts your love with lust & ochre”


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let's take the train & go to nowhere
lonely like children of war
cut in two the pain for one night
the kiss of the love that could be
rhythm of three beats in each bar
let's go where they sell
years pass by in one night
& the train to nowhere will not stop

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Happy New Year!
Let’s make this year better. Let’s help the sick. Aid the poor. Protect the children.
Let’s fight racism, sexism, bigotry.
Let’s stop destroying our earth.
May love & a sense of guide us.

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The silence of the night when I rested my head on your shoulder. The night in which the North Pole caught fire melting like a piece of butter on a heated pan.

An African violet beats her eyelashes at me. On my retina a of memories.



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Beneath my vocal cords, fingers knead the tongues of your kisses with the smell of winter.
Souls dismembered by pasts that do not intersect.
emotions.
Time sellers, creators of a love as elusive as my adiós.



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Something in me tightened like a fist. Tears. walk. Desire to rebuild your soul. Ha! I am like those women who think naked shoulders & transparent negligées can fix a broken heart. Instincts of a simple worshiper of reality. Yet I love you.

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My poetry is the realm of the unfulfilled, the voice of the blood on the feet of the prophet, the body of a Sunday that forgot to put walnuts in its baklava, the upon which you forgot to make a wish.
It's us left to the mercy of an inexplicable love.


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