What more did I want?
We were like two birds who became lost in our migration, separated from the group: the signals went awry somehow, the land changed beneath us, the air too marked with poison, the map we thought we knew dissolved inside our heads. We were above the clouds, past navigation.
I can never go home again. This could never be a return.
I was strong when I found him. I could enter him like light. I could slow time, I could travel the long constellations of dust between us, feel the patterns shifting as I passed. It has taken a little longer to learn how to stay in this place, how to occupy it as a stranger. To teach him what I’ve come to know. I could have destroyed him. But now we are becoming something new: untethered, unseen. A bright extravagance. A fresh start.
A living body. Shouldn’t that be enough?
He will learn to adjust.