Fantasy magazine

From Modern Mythcraft to Magical Surrealism


The ghosts of my failures pull my body harder
than anything else—cold hands, wild shrieks,
dark fog raging in the air. In spite of this
I am still drifting on this sea of beauty;
basking in the warmness of the sun—
my body, a beehive overflowing with honey.
It is true that when the universe throws up
its blues, like a giant, drunken god,
the mortal face turns dark in the spray.
It is also true that when a joybird begins to sing,
every face is turned towards her light.
On the morning of my feast, I am sitting
beneath a diseased apple tree, mourning a loss
that never grew into shape. In the afternoon,
I am flying into the orchard with a chariot
full of bells to drown out sorrowful songs.
Look at how I bloom even in the devious dark.
My body, an orb, a moon. Glory to the sun
that fills me with light. All I do now is beam.

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Timi Sanni

Timi Sanni

Timi Sanni writes from Lagos, Nigeria. He is the winner of the 2021 Anita McAndrews Award Poetry Contest. His works have appeared in Black Warrior Review, New Delta Review, Lolwe, Lucent Dreaming, HOAX, Palette Poetry, Frontier Poetry, and elsewhere. Find him on twitter @timisanni.