Of Bones and Flying Dreams

He remembers flying over a world where starlight and sound are filtered through silver webs. Not for the first time he thinks of these flying dreams. He believes he feels wings under his broad scapular bones, wet folded wings unable yet to test the heavy air. He ponders upon this as ripples of latent energy undulate across his back, wonders if his body is a chrysalis waiting to hatch into another reality - a world buoyant enough to turn all of his bones into flights of star-dust. That night his back opened osseus doors as if it were a burial chamber, and what came forth was hard to see even by starlight’s silvery webs.