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.