Surrealist poet

Nightfall, In You

Glass petals fall from your mouth. You speak in reverse, and I forget my own name.

You float through burning stairwells with eyes like unblinking clocks.

The sky folds when you enter. Every wall breathes your silhouette.

I open my chest, find feathers, static, and a map that only leads back to you.

You are the storm painted in gold that I walk into with bare feet.