Make a wish.
Not three.
Make a wish. These words
from an anxious mother, a child
between her
and all those burning candles.
Coffee on her breath.

Wishes aren’t about consequences
no one sees meaning coming.
The butterfly effect big picture.

Keep the wishes simple.
Isn’t that the moral?
Don’t ask for much.
A few bucks, better hair,
a really good cup of coffee.

And before that coffee’s done,
look at yourself in the black surface.
Know this is what
happiness looks like—
this reflection dark enough
to obscure wrinkles, gray hair
age and old magic.
Sip it down slowly.
Watch your best self
shrink farther away
until you disappear.