I Remember.

Last night, I had a dream but I can’t remember. Maybe it was a nightmare. But as I stirred I was all too aware of the familiar warmth that lingered. And slowly, fragments of the dream broke the surface like ripples on calm waters. And what reflected back were hazy mirages.

I remembered the fondness, the trust of the bonds forged. I was dreaming then, too. When I came to, I was renewed, surrounded by my new family. I loved each and every one of them.
One stood out in brilliance though, the memory burned into my eyes.
It was like looking right into the sun.

I remember his strength, the sky in his eyes, and his warmth on my back.
I remember--- I can’t forget his soft radiance, the sun’s rays in his hair and his smile.
I remember the tug I felt in my chest as I watched him soar and filled my vision with light.

I had dreamed that I was whole.

What I can’t remember is, when he turned his back against the sun. Or when I was swallowed up in his shadow, or how he plummeted somewhere I could never reach.

But what I remember last was grasping after him, out to the setting sun as his feathers fell through the air before crumbling to ash against my fingertips. How his betrayal bit at my skin like hot wax, how the taste of my tears reminded me of my ocean.

The rest… the rest I chose not to remember.