Look at those two, falling off of Saturn’s rings like gravity’s in love with them.
They may be floating, maybe free falling. They may re-enter with a cometary heat and helix trails of fragmentary friction. They may turn and swoop, may pierce the atmosphere with howls of glee. They might even stop, but no. No, I doubt it. They’re going places only they can see.
The only thing I know is that if they land? They’ll land gently. Tenderly. Together.
They have an infinity of options and the option to decide. They look so happy, don’t they? That could be us, friend. It will be us. It should be.
We might be angels, after all. Just fall with me. Just take my hand.
Just promise to hold on.
Prompt: via thewordsofwinter
They never lost control.
(c) 2014 Lawerence Hawkins. They’ll make it, friend, and so will we.
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