I wish for obscure things.
For the thin beam of light on my bare skin, early morning, before the world unravels at my feet and I spend the day untangling the mess it makes on bedroom floor. For the pause between the words you speak, the disconnection of your voice and your mind, so that they rest together while a thousand miles away someone else is making love or breaking a promise they wish they could keep.
I wish for happiness even though I've never felt the weight of it inside my hand, as thin as a petal fallen from a dying bloom.
I wish for strength despite the fact that I have heard stories about how the strong bend the world beneath cruel fingers or, worse, break when strength dissolves into humanity.
I wish for time, because it is the only thing that can grant me all the shadows that I seek.