Superbeing

I've actually never imagined it before. For all my talk and dreaming, this is the first time. In the midst of a dusk, I just stopped breathing. I didn't even close my eyes. I stared straight ahead and imagined having wings. Protruding from my back, having extra bones connected to my shoulders; muscle, corded and lean wrapped around it, and doused in a cacophony of feathers. Maybe they would be white, but I like to think they could be gold; maybe they could sometimes reflect the blue of the sky.

I've never even thought of flying yet, but now I feel like crying. Heaven would know why.