Last night I dreamt about you.
You saw through me with your little carrot lantern.
I drove a little car like Stuart Little.
I think I parked in the bushes next to your Dream House
And you said without looking, "I can still seeeeee you.."
From inside your garret room where you snorkeled.
You told me you were too air water fire earth for me.
You snorkeled men a great deal, often with impunity.
I was lonely in my Stuart Little car like James Dean.
Why wouldn't you sext me? (I have used the word "dreamt.")
You were too proud with your little carrot lamp.
I wanted to smash it. Like Cupid and Psyche.
I grew notorious like algae in the sea of books.
Notorious, but not like you with your little carrot lamp.
I was just happy my feet didn't turn to horn
As you predicted when you lifted my bush that time.
You are too proud in your minotaur shoes.
You need someone to bring you down. And I just might be the creep.