She wishes for things like candy and youth, for the dog to stop barking, and her body, the way it felt when she was almost 20, she runs her hands down, along her thighs, and she remembers, and she wishes for her eyes to shine brighter, to light up the world, the way they used to, the way they were, before so many years tumbled in. And she wishes for certain words to have never been said, the nasty, angry words that left her mouth so often, if she could stuff them back in, she would. And she wishes for a little less longing for the things other than what she is doing, than what she has now, these days, in these present moments, so that moments, and things, like these, are savored in a way that is real, and felt, and remembered, fondly, instead of vaguely, for they fly by, these moments, so quickly, these things, that need to be held. And when she wishes for things she wishes for time, always more time, and more of the laughter, the kind that brings tears, and can't be contained, so sweetly, gleefully painful, it makes her face hurt, and her belly ache, sore with delight. And she wishes to mother her babies again, so delicious they were, and their scent, the way they smelled, like innocence, with her cheek up against, their silky, smooth cheeks so to breathe them in, to feel a tiny, flailing fist against her skin, and little eyes looking up, to feel them pulling the love right out of her drop by precious drop. And she wishes for others to see her deeply, and clearly, to know who she is now, to understand her journey, and to recognize themselves inside the courage required to venture down the path of splattered words, all the words in the universe, that need to be written and read. When she wishes for things she mostly wishes for peace, but, don't we all? If you don't, you should. And she wishes with bittersweet longing to have taken the plunge into the soothing waters of her own life sooner, so much she would change if she could swim through those wasted years again, she would. And when she wishes for things, she wishes the way a woman does, her earnest thoughts flooding, cascading, with honesty, and with all her might, her wishes are memories and prayers gently bouncing, from wall to wall, in the night. And then she lets them go, those wishes, those prayers, with one final call, with a heavier breath, she lets go of them all, and it allows her to fall, swiftly and softly and safely to sleep. *Dear Lord, let her sleep the whole night through.