I'd at least like to lurk in your subconscious mind
if I my hands can't wander
through your forest of hair
or your smooth sands of skin.

At least, I'd like to sit in the smallest
chamber of your heart
giddily pulling the strings
if I can't dive in to a chocolatey iris
or curl up in your fleshy twigs.

I'd like, at least, for you to wonder
if I've melted into someone else's body
wonder if I've touched someone
who made me feel like a bit more
human than you could.

Because I sit and wonder often
about the past form of you and I,
I would die upon any indication
that you do not.