(no subject)

Standing in the rain this weekend, water dripping from my braided hair. My eyes. My face. It's night and the clouds above have obscured any light I might have been afforded.

I came across the most beautiful, perfect luna moth.

Light green, swallowtailed. Moving its wings slowly in the downpour we're all stupid enough to be out in. He's easily the size of my hand, bigger.

Carefully picking him up, I examined his markings, the lazy movement of his wings, and the slight trembling throughout the entire body of this achingly gorgeous creature.

I'm breathless.

This is like seeing God.

And I sing under my breath: I, I would be king. And you, you would be queen.
It's been stuck in my head all weekend, to the point where I had to dig out the album just so it would finally leave me be. and nothing would tear us away.

I raise my arms and watch the moth fly off my hands and onto the leaves of the bushes I'm standing in front of. He's safe there. In the morning the sun will come out and dry the delicate wings, enough to where he can fly away. Back to whatever business moths have when they're not being picked up by silly human girls with overlarge hearts and too many dreams.

We could be heros. Just for one day.

true story.

Holy shit! That car is full of poodles!