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      • 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
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      • you think it's easy opening doors in january?
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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?
      • Your Haiku
    • Fiction & Plays
      • Calculated Sympathy
      • Indigo
      • Maurice
      • The Cradle
      • The Hollow Room
    • Visual Art
      • A Farmer in Vinales Cuba
      • A Tobacco Farmer in Viñales, Cuba
      • Thank you, please come again
      • Self Reflective Self Portrait 5
    • Contributors
  • Past Issues
    • Fall 2024
      • Poetry
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    • Home
    • Spring 2025
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        • 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?
        • Your Haiku
      • Fiction & Plays
        • Calculated Sympathy
        • Indigo
        • Maurice
        • The Cradle
        • The Hollow Room
      • Visual Art
        • A Farmer in Vinales Cuba
        • A Tobacco Farmer in Viñales, Cuba
        • Thank you, please come again
        • Self Reflective Self Portrait 5
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        • Poetry
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        • Visual Art
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 Spring 2025     Poetry 

Sanctuary

Ivan de Monbrison

Nothing but something that is almost dead the certainty of Time the other side the certainty of Death the escape towards a space that no longer exists the desire to die dark time the fire colder than the hand not being not sleeping not dying not being neither replaced nor wandering holding your own head in your own hands along streets that do not exist for real blood the stain purity hanging your own face at the bend of a window in an enclosed space located between yourself and your own finitude the shop window is bleeding now your own head falls from your hands and rolls down into the gutter because you were never born sometimes you get the feeling that a building leaning over your head is going to collapse on you and flatten you on the ground to turn you into nothing else but a shadow that would bleed endlessly you almost want to cry almost want to scream but you don’t dare to do it for fear that the other passers-by might notice you and start staring at you with an intrigued frightened look or even a suspicious one as how can one guess what others might think sometimes now you’re scared just like that for no specific reason you don’t even know why it doesn’t matter you feel the need to lie you need to hide too you have to forget who you are and who you were for freedom there’s a price to pay and you’re ready to pay it you’ve already paid it you go out again but this time it’s not your own head that you carry away with you but the door itself and the door starts to bleed through its keyhole like a wound that would see everything that would know everything like a seer and then the keyhole closes for no reason like if it were actually the key of the rusted iron door of an old abandoned cemetery somewhere in the middle of a forest that no one would come to visit anymore.

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?

Your Haiku

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