i wished on an eyelash, blew, and watched it lazily drift, spiralling down, down, landing on the black Tartarean road. in the exhausted vroom of the Benz, handing on the tailgate mixture of gas, dirt and oxidised petrol.

*

i hope you are miles away by now, mingling in a country club carpart. i hope you didn't give up halfway and flutter, fatigued, to the unfinished road of despair. handing on the periphery, then plunging into uncharted territories, only to plummet into dirty oblivion.

*

but don't you see, i want to be around you constantly. if i blink you might do something i would miss out on, and oh i would hate that! then, for the rest of our lives, there would be something about you i didn't know. oh i want to know everything. where- where the drops from your wet curly hair fall after you come out of the bath, which fold of skin crinkles under your eyes when you smile, just how your hands can hesitate, or pause, before taking mine. i want to see the world the way you see it, and if i blinked, i wouldn't. to be your eyelash, glued to your eyes and tenderly caressing them every 1.5 seconds, brushing away tears, dirt, dush, to frame clear hazel brown eyes.

*

but, you see, if i did that, i would die. knowing that i was one of several others that you would never feel singly, always you would think of me in the plurall. the closest i would get to personalised attention would be when i fell, and then only as your good-luck charm. in the small of the palm of your hand, nestled, to do anything you ask of me.

*

you would ask me to go, and bring you something else.