three wishes what I want are simple, quiet noises like

the hum of a gnat's wings,

a baby bird's breath,

whatever else is underneath the range of my hearing, those thin vibrations across space pressing upon eardrums and not making

a sound, or the taste

of pleasant things in my mouth like mint ice cream with dark chocolate bits, lemon meringue pie, strawberries and fresh, whipped cream, too sugary for anyone else but me, maybe a juicy steak, nearly raw, its cold center and charbroiled black stripes the kind I can't make

for myself, maybe a dream of all my past lovers in bed but this time I'm doing it right, not giving them what they want, but taking from them all the stroking of hands, the rhythm of skin against skin, everything that I want for once, drowning in my own greed.