Love is freedom, the real thing, right now just feels like barely flying with half clipped wings, made it through the storm, fought for my piece of quiet on an island of chaos and poor choice. Took off, hoping to soar, felt the circuit in the air, engorged on the wave. Yet the oil hit important things, pulled me to surface, below, sinking even as water tried to arrest it from me. Again, thought to be free, the promise of sunlight encouraged me. But it wasn’t sunlight, just the glint of a predators eyes, the flick of a weapon used to distract my true eyes, never seeing past its’ disguise. I grew gills. Who needs the sun, the air, who wants to fly when the flicker of different captures your soul.
Like all constant lights, when there is no wane, no wax, there is no reality. It betrayed me. Attached to the fatty parts and slowly ate from me. When I realized I could barely swim, fins half eaten, belly trailing the ocean floor, whatever was left of the sinew, I remembered what it was to soar. Slowly, lifted, dragging him with me, hoping even still, instead of gills and fins, I could teach him to glide above the waves. The trickle of warmth sped my return, even though the weight was a burden. Harder he bit, my heart all that was left, I could feel the rays, knew I was almost safe.
The surface welcomed me, sun asked where I had been, moon told me to never hide again. The rain kissed me repeatedly, it missed the flavor of my skin, the wind caressed me, filling holes retracing the pattern of who I had been. I left him. The waves pulled us apart. The elements knew, he had a piece of my heart. They knew gills would always tempt me, and my heart would falsely lead me, so his gills never changed, his focus stayed the same, before he was out of sight, he set his flicker to falsely set another aflame.