I found a staircase carved into thunder Each step a tooth pulled from sleeping beasts The air tasted of copper And half-remembered hymns I climbed until my name fell off my shoulders And rolled back into the darkness like a coin Mirrors waited Cracked and sighing with old weather And when I reached for one It bit my hand A lantern swung from the jawbone of a tree Older than remorse Moths gathered like ash in my mouth And taught me to speak In vanished dialects Even the silence had a pulse I tried to pray once But the sky folded its arms Every word transformed into wolves Who wouldn't approach me The horizon was a wound stitched with lightning Far below Cities slept in the stomachs of drowned bells Their windows flickering with dreams left unclaimed I wanted to wake them But my hands resembled rivers And everything I touched forgot its shape By dawn I had grown antlers made of frost And a mouth full of rain The staircase ended in nothing Except the sound of wings Turning to glass
A climb that strips you bare, becoming something else Is the only way down -Sorelle