I wish I was the muscles in your arm as you reached up to get something off a high shelf in the kitchen,
Or the soft skin under your eye where your lashes rest when you sleep.
I wish I was your bottom lip and felt every one of your smiles and was the empty space in your hand when it closed into a fist.
I wish I was that sound your throat made when I kissed you.
I wish I was the space your body curled around on the bed at night, and the tile you rest your head on for a second in the shower when you’re tired.
I wish I was the second before you woke up, when you could still believe everything was okay.
I wish I was the exhale when you sighed.
I wish that for every silly birthday candle, I was your wish.