every year you recycle the wish
of something to wish for.
there is nothing you want
except something to want.

there is a glimmer of hope
burning above a frosted foundation.
you will extinguish it
with an empty mind
just like you always do.

next year, you won’t light a candle.
you won’t set the room aglow
and your eyes will stay dressed in black.
darkness cannot be the absence of light
if you never have it in the first place.