Flight

Like fleeting winds we travel, dipping across the slope of currents, lying suspended in the grasp of ebbing free fall, sucked into the satisfying regression of ephemeral flight. Your essence is wrapped around me, coating my spirit in the intensity of all your aggregated passion. We bear wings but no consciousness of them, allowing us to maneuver without thought and guided by the subconscious will of pure sentience. I’m beyond captivated by your presence, inebriated by the sustenance provided by your existence and the warm, chilly elation buzzing in my skin from your touch. The night swirls around us, breezes twirling and propelling our ascent, the colors blurring into a painting of dark colors and brush strokes of deep blue. I’m not aware of where we’re going and in fact I’m not aware of anything except the exhilaration of our mutual recognition. We slip into the depths of a rushing surge of wind and I can see the acceleration of racing landscape and sky. Softly our sky sailing wanes and I can feel the pressure of imminent landing, my feet brush the ground and slowly I halt. Suddenly I’m standing on my own, and somehow you’re not with me anymore.