Though you would swear by my cooking, I know why
But to tell on me! I wouldn't dare to try
I find myself at home, at the sink, doing my dishes
Wondering nothing, you may mistake it for woe
Though
Yet know
I won't correct your misnomer, or inability to perceive
Nor react to your lauding, nor bother to deceive
I will remain, you will leave, I won't bother to shatter nor heal
As I exist, you do too, yet neither interleave
So here I am at my sink, washing the dishes
There you maybe, wherever there is
The night will pass, come to light
Some stories are better out of sight
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