The Song I Didn't Write
I can’t wrap my head around
The notion that the present is a gift.
You know me well enough by now
To know I know that your devotion
Has a tendency to shift.
I can wait for you forever
If that’s what you want.
I can be a fountain for you
Always filling, always spilling.
I burnish every surface in the house
But still I’m haunted by the dust.
How much of it is your skin?
How could I begin again?
You know the words to all my songs
And you prove it to me every night.
But could you guess the lyrics
To the song I didn’t write?