What if at the end,
You realize you were wrong?
Will this change the beginning,
And the middle, and the late middle,
And the end, of this, our lonely song?
What if, at the end,
You understand how lonely
You were, and how you always had the key
To escape your prison.
And the one you wanted—was me?
Will it make a difference, then,
When you cry out,
And see my face, and there is no doubt there was no doubt?
I wonder this, not because wondering is what I need to do.
I know. I never wondered when I thought of you.