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?)