another year, another

set of candles on

another cake —

(I’ve heard that birthday wishes

sometimes

maybe

perhaps

come true?) —

I make the wish for the third time.

you.

you.

you.

— (I’ve heard that occasionally

just incidentally

hopefully

the wish you make with one

breath, has a chance?) —

you want me to stop

wishing it, want me to stop

hoping it, praying it

wasting my breath on

dandelions and too faint flames and

bare footsteps in the night-dew

grass under the stars, wishing…

but I can’t help wishing

just like I can’t help breathing

because to stop wishing

you

you

you

would be to stop being

me–

(have you heard it too? that

once upon a time, in a land

far far away, perhaps

on a star with a boy

and a fox

and a rose

wishes

could

come true?)