In the next life, if you’re a mouse,
I’ll be tall grass so you can run unnoticed,
or if you’re a brown rat, I’ll be a garden shed
that you can burrow under, if you’re a seabird
I’ll be an island you can nest on, if you’re a fish
I’ll come out in colours as a coral reef,
if you’re a spider, I’ll be a brick wall
with a creephole for you to hide in,
or if in another life, you find yourself
to be a bat, I’ll be the dark you need to hunt in,
I’ll be the barn you need to roost in,
or maybe you’ll find that you’ve come back
as a rarity, a Walney geranium that grows
only in one place, in all the world –
then wait for me, I’ll be that place, I’ll turn myself
into Walney Island, a strip and spit of land
grey seals can haul themselves upon,
and if you become a buff-tailed bumble bee,
I’ll be the compost heap you sleep in,
and even if you come back as something darker,
something harder – a tumour perhaps,
maybe you need a body to live inside,
I will give you mine, here is my bowel,
it will keep you safe from harm, I’ll put myself
to the bottom of every waiting list, turn down
the operation, this was the bargain,
the promise I made, my life as refuge,
my life as harbour, my life for yours each time.