Is there a way for you to tell me how
I’ll ever get my needed sleep again?
Or if I’ll ever find my “here and now,”
The kind that I am reaching for in vain?
It’s just I can’t quite hear my own designs
As they toss and twist inside my churning head
And toil and strive to burst from their confines
To share with me the things they’ve always said.
“Because you’re lovely” isn’t quite enough
For me to let you off so easily—
Your voice is loud, your hands are strong and tough,
Your mind’s too bright for me to clearly see.
I love your graceful form, how soft without,
But it shows me not what I am all about.