A shooting star, in an unlit sky.
Whispered words, breezing warmly into my ear.
The warmth, the gentle firmness, the inexplicable moment.
Closed my eyes, held my breath, prayed my prayer. And wished.
I wish I’d wished for one more day. One more kiss. Or one more hug.
Perhaps a wish for eternal joy or everlasting peace; for the patience that I still need to build. For the fortitude to withstand what was to come.
Maybe I ought to have wished for tomorrow to never come. And forever to be real.
Instead I wished for perfection. Now I have nothing.
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