surreal poetry
Surrealist poetry embodies the essence of poetry itself, drawing upon shocking imagery and lyrical incongruities to comment on the inner-workings of the mind.
The Reverse of Remembering
I stepped through a crack in the wind— not a door, not a dream, but something stitched between sighs. The world folded inward, then bloomed in reverse. Rain climbed from soil to sky, pulling forgotten tears from the ground. They shimmered like glass birds mid-flight, each one chirping a memory I didn’t know I had. Time moved backward here. I saw myself un-age— laughter wrinkling out of my eyes, scars sealing like zipper-teeth, grief turning into wonder, then into nothing. Emotions walked the streets— some on fire, some wrapped in velvet, some shivering, naked and raw. I passed a shadow made of rage; it snarled and then wept because I wouldn't look away. Love was a cathedral built of heartbeat stones. I entered through its ribcage gate and knelt beside a version of me who still believed she wasn't enough. I offered her silence. She gave me a flower that bloomed in both hands at once. Everyone I met wore my eyes— but from different lives. The child who danced in dandelions. The liar who meant well. The lover who left. The ghost I pretend I’m not. They spoke in riddles but I understood every word. When I returned, I brought back the scent of old rain, a pocket of laughter from when I didn’t know what pain was, and the name of the part of me I’d buried: Hope. It doesn’t shine. It doesn’t sing. But it waits. And now, so do I.
By Carolina Borgesabout a year ago in Poets
