Where Time Folds

Read the book

I write for the unshriven, ghosts who scroll TikTok. My words are mold on the Vatican’s frescoes, the emojis etched into coffins, gilding the rot. My poems are funerals for the unburied. Distance is the only sacrament left. Laugh — or the void laughs first.

Dolores de Alma Blanca

Where Time Folds is a collection of fifty-five poems and a closing note by Dolores de Alma Blanca, translated by Lanfranco Aceti. It is dated Rome, 15 May 1982, and was published by Passero in 2026.

This is the earliest of her collections, and the one where the subject is time itself rather than the people time takes. Fortresses nobody gives you, plateaus buckling at sunset, a rose handed over and regretted in three lines, memory erased on schedule. The poems are short, and they end before consolation can arrive.

The titles do the folding. They come in declensions — Distance, Distancing, Distant; Foreseen, Foreclosed, Pre-Destined; Repetition and then, forty poems later, Repetitions — so that reading the contents is already an experience of time doubling back on itself. The book ends not on a poem but on a sentence about writing, which is the only thing in it that survives.

Forevermore

Under Fate’s mighty breath,
the great glories of the past
shall fall,
and of our love,
amidst the final ruins,
scattered to the wind,
only these verses
shall remain.

written by
Dolores de Alma Blanca

FROM THE COLLECTION

The complete collection: Kindle

EDITIONS

First edition: Passero, 2026
Online edition: OCR, 2026
Kindle edition: Amazon

CITATION

Dolores de Alma Blanca, Where Time Folds, trans. Lanfranco Aceti (London, New York, and Rome: OCR/Passero Productions, 2026).