Magic Lamps

There were x-rays to take in places only radiation could see. To search for fractures. Though she felt no pain. To find discrepancies between the action and the consequence. Her skin thudding like the skin on a beaten drum. And no one there to dance.

There were heels to whet on young men's hardons. The ambulance of touch stuck in traffic. While I waited to be rescued. Visualizing Christ in empty apartments. The desperate quiet of humility. Saying goodbye to people I've never met.

Alone in my tradition of remembering words deleted.

Alone in my obsession with asking the question to answer.

Betting the moon. Over an empty pot. It was the wager she wanted. Not the win. She asked the genie to wait. Knowing it would spoil her wish. Taking the doll by the rake of its hair. The yarn all but, thread. It's dress was pretty, but falling apart. It hadn't a bad mother. Just one that never meant to have so many children.

Finally, she made her wish. The genie listening carefully for any flaw to exploit. I want. I'd like, she said. To be able to know what the world would be like had I never existed.

The genie laughed. Silly child, that's hardly a wish. It would be exactly as it is now. It wouldn't be any different.

Now...

What do you really want?