I wish.... I wish, I wish, I wish. Feels painful to wish. Because it feels like it wont happen.

In fact my experience is that if the wish is precise and it’s let out there Then it will come but it will come as a scorpion hidden in the colour and so my wish is soured. So I dare not wish now. I dare not make a wish because the wishes hurt. They seem to die but not before they’ve inflicted the wound. And wounds for me seem to be mortal wounds. Like a slow poison in my blood And I try. Really I do. I keep cutting where I think the skin was pierced and sucking to try to take the poison out but the poison is in my blood and some of it is now part of my blood with no separation. A chemical fusion which can’t be undone. The cake, my friends, is baked and there’s no way of going back to the ingredients. So I fear wishes now I don’t want to wish though I know the young woman wants to keep her innocence. But I know wishes change the consistency of your blood forever. They do. So I wish not to wish. Darkness wishes not met. Wish on a star. If you dare. It wont bode well. The more precise you are, the more hidden and deadly the sting.

But where is innocence and hope. wish, wish, swish wish. In the wind. Stings are ok maybe, aren’t they? They make you alive. Doesn’t poison pump up the heart Make it go faster. Yes, but then usually so fast it will have to stop. Dead.

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