I am not very good
at a lot of thingsI cannot paint you pictures
because the beautiful things in my head
cannot be translatednor can I sing to you
as my voice has an uncanny habit of
falling flatnor can I play for you
as my fingers fumble
when my thoughts cross over to how
you look, watching mebut I can brush the knots out of your hair
and work the knots out of your back
when your day has become too
much to bearI am not good at much
but I will be good to you-