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

I know you
like the last step
in a staircase:
enshrouded in darkness.

I slowly stretch a brave leg across
the unknown dimensions;
do I relieve myself
with another familiar step?

Or do I brace myself
for the cold, naked floor?
Do I leave the routine journey
to step into a world extrinsic?

What will happen if I dare be brave;
will my foot sink through the transparent tier
to tumble aimlessly through the void,
screaming curses at my misplaced courage?

I just don't know anymore;
balancing my leg in the still air--
the temptation to pirouette
shakily and ascend anxiously.

To escalate the last step,
I find to be much easier;
My strength carries me forwards
as the light receives me warmly.

But down below,
in the shadows' taunting musings,
I cannot put faces to the voices
that call me into their reckless abandon.

I know you
like the last step
in a staircase,
faceless amorphous Guile;

your voice... indelible.