11:11 Dandelion Wish

writing prompt 11:11//make a wish 

11:11 

we sit cross legged from one another

knees touching

your hands cupping my hands 

cupping the fluffy white dandelion you plucked out of nowhere

"make a wish,"

you say softly

"because double the luck"

and I grin and say, "easy, winning the lottery"

and you throw your head back and laugh

"if the Universe accepts that, I claim a 50-50 stake"

"only 50-50?" I tease 

and you wink at me before closing your eyes and blowing, hard, 

on behalf of both of us

dandelion seeds carrying that stupid wish floating high above our heads and woven hands

and I want to call them back back back because I am already holding the lottery

the whole damn jackpot in the palm of my hands

jeans white t-shirt chiseled jaw-line so sharp it cuts my heart in two

"time", I breathe

and you open your eyes to glance at me curiously

and you blink as my fingers tighten around yours

so tight that I feel the oxygen leave them blue

and my heart stops 

because no time is enough to hold you here

permanent

and mine.

and I wonder if Cinderella, too, felt her heart in her throat

when she felt fireworks in her chest

as her hands seamlessly folded into Prince Charming's,

his hands lightly claiming her waist

mesmerised eyes wanting, searching, finding

everything he had been looking for

I wonder if she, too, wished for time

as the clock ticked closer to twelve

the wild hope blooming in her heart

crushing the inevitable that would crack it down the middle

ticking time bomb destined to detonate

in 49 minutes

blowing up dreams born of fairy tales and glass slippers and wanting hearts.

I wonder, if,

amid the blur of ball gowns and pumpkin carriages and roses in her hair

one man's unflinching gaze

much like yours

- much like the way your eyes hold mine for an eternity

and your steady hands still my restlessness

and your heart makes itself a place to call my own

much grander than a golden ball room

music swelling to a crescendo to welcome me 

h o m e -

made her wish for that waltz to last forever

knowing that it was a shot in hell

but wishing for it anyway.

it's 11:12

and the sweet magic fizzles out - the burst of colour dulls - the timely music fades

but your eyes still hold mine

and our fingers are still intertwined

and your heart still beats beats beats for me

eighty per minute

and if minutes were lifetimes

48 minutes still wouldn't be enough.