I’d slip in through
your screen
without being seen
encircle you
as a gentle breeze
raising the hair
on your arm
as a dandelion
on the lawn

wrap around
your unbuttoned collar
waltzing under your shirt
as a six-leg crawler
making my nest
there in your chest
your heartbeat
makes me jump
as a toad
splashing out
of the water

if this makes me
odder
to not be seen
but living in
cut, cotton fabric
the trestles of bone
and shingles of skin
my home –
if I was the wind