Wishing For More & Never Enough—

Jenn Givhan

Wishing For More & Never Enough—                                                                                               

 

What more did I want than this, child? Than you stretched

taffy horizontal across my bed, a little black chihuahua

on your lap? What miracle would I erase

for a sizzling new day, a razzle in the heart & another

day’s fade. My mother dipped her napkin into a glass of ice

water before rubbing dirt or jelly from my face. I use

spit. On a plain thumb. Rub vigorously. & not only

when your eyelashes have fallen, child, do I grasp wishes.

I pluck your lashes out. I do. You blink & there I go

with my tweezers for fingers. What did you wish for

Mama, in your little bird’s rasp when we press our damp

hands together & the lash sticks to mine & I hold it

triumphant. The wish used to be you. I used to wish for you.

The ache now: When I tell you my wish, you say

that was yours too.