Dandelion Skyscrapers

When we were kids

we’d blow on dandelions

and watch

the seeds

scatter,

and

make secret wishes to

test the

magic of dreams.

But one day, I just started flailing,

kicking them down in dozens

like they were skyscrapers,

small and insignificant,

and just as far from the sky.

I made a hundred wishes

at once, thinking,

at least one would land,

at least one would have

to sprout up to go where

lungs can’t.

Because that’s control,

grasping at horizons

with empty hands, knowing

that all we have is what

we can’t.