If dishes were wishes
I would hold up my hand
I would close my eyes
I would say no more
I have what I need
Let me count my blessings, please.
If dishes were lovers
I would want to be held
caressed for a change
Spoon me I would say
Tell me it's going to be ok
And laugh into my neck.
If dishes were music
I would keep it low
Listen for the softer notes
The knives kissing
The soap suds laughing
did the plates just clap?.
If dishes were birds
I’d open all those cages
And ask them to fly away
I can eat out of my hands
They’re so clean
They make me cry.
If dishes were dreams
I would know why they keep slipping
slithering and almost breaking
and then saying ‘fooled you!”
as my heart misses yet another beat
and I hold on to them. For now.