the winter anthology
Vol. 11
Gleb Shulpyakov
“a man onscreen
removes an overcoat”
a man onscreen removes an overcoat,
bandages from a face beneath which
nothing, unbelievably, can be seen,
becomes part of the window’s landscape—
I resemble him, I am the same
million-sided void permeating
that which cannot endure this void
in me—like water—filling pores
and fissures in the dark, parched
shifting under skin, becoming me—