Everyone knows the tale of poor Icarus.
A mortal who let "hubris" lead his way.
But what people forget to mention is that Icarus knew what he was getting himself into
He knew all too well of his consequence
But it was worth it to him
To graze his hand against his lover's cheek even just once
Warmth spreading through his fingertips igniting flame in his heart
He had been stuck to love from afar all his life
This was a taste of freedom and he would relish in it
It didn't matter what would happen next because he was right there
In that moment
The future just a fleeting notion
An afterthought
He knew that this wouldn't last but gods, it was worth it while it did.
Apollo took Icarus into his arms and together they soared
Golden rays and seafoam sprays
Feathers floated like prayers through the clear blue skies
Until death left burning kisses scattered upon the poor mortal
Wax dripped and melted off his skin, leaving just a boy and his lover
clutching each other with everything they had until they could hold no more.
But, Icarus is not sad.
He is only grateful
Grateful that he had that fleeting moment of loving and being loved
It is crueler to fear the idea of death than to actually partake
He spread his arms wide, letting the seas take him
The sun all the while painting the world shades of lustrous golds
What a bright and gleaming end to such a dull life
So while Icarus did fall.
That did not matter
Because to him, he flew.