i. Wish, wish, wish
on birthdays,
on bones,
and then wait.
ii. Today I bought a blue bow for my hair,
and played a silent discourse orchestra
between my hands
and the tips of my fingers
.iii. Later, constellations gathered on my cheeks
and I haven't run into why
or fallen into why yet; I just
made punctures
and let pour from them into pillows
iv. drop, splash
v. Mouth waits for a kiss, scrubbed into a shell
that is weary from holding onto words,
so many words.
Inside, they make up an ocean that laps
quiet at the shores of my jaws.
vi. Someone once told me that death is just a harbour
and we are all floating. With death on my tongue
so tastelessly, the boats that moored here
are all cracked,
as bitten lips,
the watered-down sips,
unspoken sound waves.
viii. Wish, wish, wish once in a blue moon,
wish on the honey dripping from your spoon,
wish on the salt, over shoulder, left-side strewn
wish on the warranty of seeing you again soon.
ix. I missed out stanza seven on purpose.
x. This line is to balance and complete.
Ironic how what crosses other things out
turns out to be what people see
as sets of signals- where to look
to make a search for hidden treasure a lot better,
and where to look to find
a kiss hidden near the end of a love letter.
