Jamie prefers to sing to him;
I insisted on knowing how he convinced her,
And he shows me the secrets again and again
With a flourish and a trick of the fingers

But when my fingers run down her copper hair,
Pressing it tightly against her shadowed neck,
I try to stroke it as finely as he does,
Until I hear the storm of her voice rumble under my fingertips;

However, my hands always forget how to compose themselves:
Which strands of hair need to cling to which fingers,
Where my thumb is placed against her smooth back,
How hard to stroke that fine copper hair of hers.

I try to please her, to make her sing,
But she only wails for me;
Jamie prefers to sing only to him;
And anybody else who knows how she works