IF you ever decide
the dream is NOT dead
I left you my pillow
laying on your bed.
There’s a drop of my blood
on the floor of your bedroom
from when the fan almost cut off
my long clumsy fingers.
I have shed my gold hair
all over your city.
Just like the cat
and the dog
that I am.
This would be enough
to concoct a magical potion
IF you ever decide
the dream is NOT dead.