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Avalon
  • Home
  • Spring 2025
    • Poetry
      • A Soulmate
      • All the Globe's a Stage
      • At The Water's Edge
      • Big Sisters
      • Cotton-Stuffed Heart
      • Doom, Sleep, Mastication, and My Godson Jeremiah
      • Foolish Lemons
      • I Know Icarus
      • nightstand as self-portrait
      • one thousand three hundred and eighty-eight days
      • Pasiphaë
      • Poem for a Stranger
      • Pilot of the Hollow Vessel
      • Rehoming; or, a habitat for creatures who seek darkness and cold
      • Sanctuary
      • The World Inside a Sidewalk Crack
      • Year of the Frog
      • you think it's easy opening doors in january?
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 Fall 2023     Poetry 

Liars

Vex Sliter

They were lying when they told me pressure makes a diamond. I put the weight of a thousand worlds on my back and yet I don’t shine. I am not unbreakable. I am still just as fragile and worthless as a lump of coal. They were lying when they told me heat makes diamonds. I can scream in the mirror at myself with hot stinging tears burning rivers down my face and still I am a lump of filthy coal. I can spit flames into my own face fueled by the coal that makes myself yet still I only get consumed. I do not get stronger, I do not change. I do not get clean, I do not shine. Instead, I burn, I shatter, I crumble, and I consume myself in my own ceaseless quest to become a diamond.

Among my Greed

Boyce Road

Celestial Infatuation

Firebird Suite No. 2

ganymede

Liars

Moonbeams

Sacred Rituals

The Difference

The Honor of a Dance

There Are No Phoenixes; Ergo, Ashes Are the End

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