Alas de Encanto (Wings of Enchantment)

She doesn’t fly—she glides through your thoughts, tracing invisible paths you didn’t know existed. Her wings beat like a soft spell, each flutter a pulse of color and meaning. You don’t just watch her—you follow her, without knowing why.

There’s a rhythm to her, eternal and silent, pulling at the edges of your awareness. She circles once, twice—then vanishes. But her presence lingers, etched into your memory like a symbol you’ve seen before in dreams.

She is not fragile—she is strength on silent wings. Her movement is a language all its own, delicate yet deliberate, like the whisper of silk across the mind. She doesn’t demand your attention—she unravels it, gently, completely.

“Soy el aleteo que confundiste con un suspiro.”
(I am the flutter you mistook for a sigh.)

She is not simply a butterfly.
She is the memory of flight.
And you’ve been chasing her longer than you realize.