Taurus Falling

Front to front is so very different from back to back. His ribs tremble with each dragging breath, lungs fluttering beneath them like burrowed rabbits in the face of a predator.

It's foreign, so foreign. The press of his body is so light it's almost as if he isn't really there.

And perhaps he isn't. Perhaps he never was.

"Won't you look at me?"

Butterfly kisses against the shell of an ear. Eyes raised to a face wet with tears.

He cries more now than he ever has.

"No, no. Look at me." The tone in his voice is distraught, shaken by the knowledge that he can no longer hide.

"I am looking at you. I see you."

A hand pressed over his heart. Proof that he has one after all.

His limbs shake beneath the weight of the words as he presses in, tangling himself further in the unknown of letting go.

Of being human.