Oh wise genie of the lamp, hear my plea and grant thee;
These wishes of no grandeur that could set my mind free

I wish to see, again, the timid smile that covered those glistening whites
when I slowly weaved  my fingers through those ebon spikes

I wish to watch the sparkle that those narrow eyes set in secrecy
As we exchange stolen glances talking about an unlikely similar history

I wish to be called first when your mind speaks of chaos
and traverse in your thoughts up until the new sun arose

I wish to venture back the vastness and emptiness of space
as we laid the earth and awed at the starry night’s daze

I wish I haven’t met a familiar illusion;
of a mirage of oneself from a broken mirror’s reflection

I wish things were just like as before
when we knew nothing more than a mystery to each other

But alas, these wishes remained as a desperate persuasion
For the genie only gave one and I used it to wake up from this delusion