I have floated above myself before
A blank faced sheet,  a fractured mirror
Self looking down on distant self
A Charlie, pushing arches against bubble fans
Burping up desperation
Grasping to be grounded

This morning the derealization was different

Winged above I saw myself in a dream
Grown up me
As I had idealized  
as a crimson heart-eyed child

Standing
in a cluttered room
Wrapped in silk, held in your wings
You tickling me, pushing nose into nape
It had finally happened
The first view
of the best version of myself
Unlike nothing else.