I wish I was an elephant
in the stomach of a snake
I wish I was a book
forgotten in a library
I wish I was your fingers
when you do that in your bed
I wish I was the twenty-ninth
of the cold February
And on that fateful day
I’ll be walking to my grave
I'll open my coffin of ivory
and count the days remaining
for my brain and soul to rot
God I wish I was a shadow
I wish I wasn’t at all.
