I don't know how many.

100? 

More?

Less?

That is so many wishes.

So many chances to improve the world.

So fragile and unguared.

"It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye," but how about a lash?

No one gives a second thought.

Besides, "Oh, I get to make a wish now!"

100 wishes.

You could do so much.

You want to do so much.

I love you, obviously.

I don't know why else I'd be writing a poem about you.

I'm so lucky to be looking at your wishes right now.

I see endless promise in them.

You're beautiful.

To make a wish you can to lose a lash.

So does the man who has gotten everything he's ever wished for have no lashes?

Is he "ugly" but fulfilled?

Is his life perfect incomplete?

Probably.

Just take it once lash at a time.

I love you and your lashes.

I hope all your wishes come true.

But I hope your eyes don't have to go bald for you to be satisfied.