Those wings,
Moving and moving and moving in that endless
Brown and
Silvery blur
Like terror.

Those big wings. Swallowing,
Enveloping me in their crushed, dusty,
Powdery silk. Raising up into the sky, above me, huge, really huge to my eyes,
My phobic watery mad eyes.

I think of your arms, stretched out, holding the bed sheets up, you
Grinning, adoring. And apparently you had
Big wings.