I’d become a shark, if you wanted me to.
If you wanted to disappear, I could be a magician,
say you drowned in Houdini’s box,
and went to live with the fishes.
You could say it was a mermaid,
I’d take the fall for that.
But I also know an island
where you could just take a nap,
no death involved,
if you didn’t want to go that far.
If you didn’t want people thinking
I’d dragged you away
or you didn’t want to be dragged away,
I could show you a place to rest.
We could hide out there for a little while
and nobody would notice you’d gone.
But if you didn’t want to go anywhere,
would rather stay at home
with the curtains drawn,
I would join you there;
I could curl up right beside you
or in a little ball on your chest.
I’d become a kitten, if you wanted me to.