Wish you may….
Breathe in clouds of steam as you climb into the bath. Clasp the bar of earthy olive oil soap that your beloved gifted you on your birthday. Press it to your chest as you petition for a halt to the steep skitter and slide of his life. Gasp when you feel the soap slip like a fish between your fingers.
Wish
Think about the seal you whittled from a cake of Ivory when you were young, white flakes flying everywhere, like snow. Feel around for the soap that’s fallen between your knees. Begin to chip away. Dig and scrape, claw and scratch until the familiar shape emerges. Sketch its soulful eyes, etch a heart on one side, Don’t die! on the other. Cradle this prayer in the curve of your palms as your love rough-breathes in bed in the next room. Wish him here-ness. That he might stay.
he might….
A breeze from the open window chills the constellation of water droplets on your back. Why can’t we see the wind? he once asked you. Only what it’s touched. Sometimes a rustle gifting a shimmer of leaves. Other times downing the tree. Shout towards the open door. Darling! The wind! Can you feel it? Pray that he can still hear you. Shiver, reach over the tub to grab a towel, dry your hands. Seize the wish….
… you wish tonight.
