3 Figures by Anastassia Kolchanov

"There Were Three" by Shelby McQuilkin

"There Were Three" by Shelby McQuilkin

A figure speaks to me at night 

as its bellows of hair 

seem to envelop me 

a secretive chamber bathed in 

dim candlelight 

wax enveloping the flame 

drips forming into words 

spoken from the volumes of knowledge 

in this vast capsule of time 

bedding of leather 

the comforts of the expansion of



A figure whispers to me in the morning 

soaked in particles of light and dust 

convoluting itself into the daydreams of strangers. 

Thoughts flying freely with the formation of dew at dawn. 

The sober rays of blush gently caressing

the wavering voice of your doubts 

In a place where envy breath 

seems to make a negligible impact 

the air of the earlyhours

can cure the drought of fantasy 


A figure calls my name at dusk 

upon the ruins of a monastery 

with mystery hanging about its ears

dangling with every blow of the wind 

It senses the souls 

of the solitary monks with 

every step I take upon the 

shaken, petrified earth.

A prayer whisked into the sky 

as the world around this lonely mountain

becomes hazy

Patches of color disintegrating until 

the only object visible in the 

wee hours of the evening 

is the pure, unaltered gaze 

traveling through the cosmos 

brushing stardust off its shoulders