If all I’ll ever have
Is scraps off other people’s dinner tables
Will you hold the pages of my past –
Caress the sides as you flip the pages
While you read what my heart once had to say
Dear reader, if I never find love again
Will you write in the margins with your pen
Scribble notes and marks in me
Where love and thought ought to be
If I never, ever find my own
Hand to hold and know I’m home
Will you hold and caress my little book
Put me in your home in a little nook
In a place where maybe I can look
At your home, at your place
In the world where you’ve carved a space
And watch your many loves unfold
And maybe, maybe now and then
Pick me up, take out your pen
Write in me, complete my soul
And maybe then, at least, I can be a place for you to land
And if enough lovers touch my hands
My crease my folds, I’ll sure be glad
And I can die knowing that – yes
I have been loved