Coins in the wishing wells

I wish I wish 
to the wishing well I had more time
with you,
to see you get undone,
come out of your mask,
Taking off your linen stress,
of woven flat press,
add to the pile of laundry,
all in a mess, a little drowsy,
As you sink in deep
at the couch beside,
ask me if dinner’s aside.
I wish I had more time,
to reach out to your tie,
untie, get on with my lie,
that I was well all day,
when all I did was think 
of you,
what you will bring today,
what you will say.
I wish I had more time,
after you let it all rest,
decide to not waste,
the night as well,
and you lay your head
ever so softly in my chest,
to let it all come undone,
while I listen to your hushed complains
how the days are a lot 
the streets are too hot,
and the burdens at work and whatnot,
how you want to sleep now,
when I remember my vow,
to be your fireplace,
of warmth and embrace,
the hot chocolate, little candle sticks,
by you, here, ever and forever.
I wrap my hands tighter 
around your buried head,
caress your hair, your cheeks, flushed red.
I embrace you in your softness,
Knowing it is what you crave,
my beautiful thing, so brave,
And you breath out in love,
exhale, let it all rest.
I clutch my fingers tighter,
My wish in dust, lingers like a fighter,
before it all melts, in you,
a wishing well.
I sigh, whispering,
“Darling mine, 
you are more in my embrace, 
than my own soul,
Nearer, my heart bearer,
I cannot let you go.”
I wish I wish to the wishing well,
Carry up a wall around your wishing depths,
where my love cannot show.
So keep my wish 
where even echoes cannot tell, 
for I have loved you 
deeper than the wishing well.
Tahseen Nower Prachi is a lecturer of media studies and journalism and a writer whose head is a koi pond of micro tales too scattered to come down to her keyboard. For more of her little pieces, follow The Minute Chronicles on Facebook.

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