Ephemeral Wings

Gossamer strands flow past her cheeks, face upturned to the radiant moon. Beneath her the city streets hum with life, a low thunder felt in the chest. Arms outstretched gooseflesh rolls up her wrists causing the glowing skin of her arms to ripple. The chill flows up her neck over her cheeks. Standing tears in her eyes are shaken free and cascade upon the unknowing multitudes below. As her back arches she thinks of wings, and as those gossamer strands fall free she begins to fly.