For the Dreamers

Night

Butterflies: an image of freedom, beauty, and grace. They tackle the day, with strength and passion, but what about the night, when such possitivity is shadowed by the fears that darkness awakes? What of their ghostly cousin, the moth?

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Running up, racing up, catch me if you can! I am so free, with the wind at my back and the whole entire world waiting for me just out of reach... one step... two steps... my feet barely touch the ground... three steps... and I'm gone.

Hair whips around my face, and despite the burning in my eyes, I smile and whistle as loud as I can.
I jump into the air, and enjoy the thrill of free falling, and as I draw dangerously near the ground, there's no time to panic before he catches me in a web of delicate scales, flexing and fluttering in the gentle breeze, so swift, so radiant, he blazed through the air, breathing a brilliant trail of fire. I held tight, to these wings so bright yet subtle, so broad, they extended far as the eye could reach, fading straight into the sunset of tomorrow.

There was no need to speak, nor any other communication, for freedom is its own language, to the lost, to the lonely, and to the empty. We spoke it fluently, and that understanding was all that either party needed.

We laid together, entwined in air, a physical apology for all between us. He carried me in his golden arms, and I pressed my face against his soft body, caressing him, filling us with all the fear and passion both of a midnight dream. But a dream was all it was, for he was the clearest water, blue in a summer pond; and I was oil, black as the bitter night. Even though we were always together, he and I will forever remain apart, separated by the aproaching night.

We landed gently, but the impact shattered both our hearts. The time had come.

I turned to him in the creeping twilight, and saw the scaled armor fall from him in feathery sheets, revealing my truest love. He was like some twisted, weary shadow of my memories, but I relished his image all the same. Like a reflection, we drew simultaneously together, and I could barely grasp his hand before I saw the feathers circling.

"Goodbye", I whispered. I stepped away with my arms open, and felt them stretch and fan into a twisted, skeletal shadow of him, a single tear running down my face before the monster takes hold.

My turn to fly.