(I have looked on several sites but cannot find a title for this poem. (This poem reminds me of ancient poems translated from Irish, not in the sentiments but in the structure.)
I’d like to be a nest if you were a little bird.
I’d like to be a scarf if you were a neck and were cold.
If you were music, I’d be an ear.
If you were water, I’d be a glass.
If you were light, I’d be an eye.
If you were a foot, I’d be a sock.
If you were the sea, I’d be a beach.
And if you were still the sea, I’d be a fish, and I’d swim in
you.
And if you were the sea, I’d be salt.
And if I were salt, you’d be lettuce, an avocado, or at least a
fried egg.
And if you were a fried egg, I’d be a piece of bread.
And if I were a piece of bread, I’d be butter or jam.
If you were jam, I’d be the peach in the jam.
If I were a peach, you’d be a tree.
And if you were a tree, I’d be your sap . . .
And I’d course through your arms like blood.
And if I were blood, I’d live in your heart.
