The House That Swallowed Me! #WITWContest

The house exhales in shadowed tongues
and snow falls like pressed petals on my hair.
I am a moth stitched to the marrow of paper,
a pulse behind the ink,
breathing in the black of someone else's eyes.
He waits where the cold licks the walls,
and I drink the dark like wine
until it feels like home.

Entry for #WITWContest
Prompt - Woke up in my own story