Dostoevsky’s death mask at the Russian Museum of Málaga

            Nazaret Ranea

Sunday, after four,
when the entry is free.

I look at this heavy head
on an even heavier pillow
and refuse to believe
that when you died
your eyes weren’t open.

No, Anna must have closed them.

Later that day Kramskoi came
to make a drawing.
Your half-smile, faint.
Your hair was still growing.

It’s Sunday afternoon,
but no one is here.
I just want to scream “Mine!”
and try to break the glass
only to run off crying.


Nazaret Ranea is a Spanish poet currently living in Edinburgh, Scotland. Recognized as one of Scotland’s Next Generation Young Makars, she is the author of the zines My Men and My Women and edited For Those Who Tend the Soil. She is working on her debut anthology and has featured on BBC Radio Scotland.