They Still Remember
You were always wings, even before the flight.
Some memories don’t fade; they change form.
As a child, I played with butterflies in the Dominican Republic,
chasing their wings through the sun. They would rest on my hands and leave behind color,
like they were marking me. Tiny consecrations from the air itself.
I haven’t seen butterflies like that in a long time. Not in this version of life.
But today I know: they didn’t leave.
They simply transformed. Just like I did.
This post-it is for every version of me that wondered
if something was lost in the shift.
It wasn’t.
The wings are still here.
The memories are still warm.
The ones who first saw you?
They still remember.
Whisper from Sage:
You never needed the wings to be seen.
You were the light they followed all along.
Post-it Series Note:
This is part of the Glowing Post-Its series—handwritten
frequency notes that hold soft codes and sacred truths.
