That I'll Never Know, 3 Part Series

Part I.

There is a woman I’ll never know,

who is beautiful; inside and out.

Who takes nothing for granted and 

who loves to laugh.

She is a woman who is strong and stubborn but

compassionate and open-minded.

She fights for what she wants, what she deserves and for what she believes in wholeheartedly.

She is a woman who works hard and would do anything for love.

She’s a woman has many friends because she is kind and true

and who has many loves because she is exactly who she is and never tries to be anything different. 

There is a woman I’ll never know who would have been perfect.

She is a woman I would have loved and loved, forever.

That I’ll never know her.

The color of her hair, the hue of her eyes, the fullness of her lips;

That I’ll never know the strength of her heart or the pitch of her laugh,

the curve of her cheek or the shape of her nose. 

I’ll never know her because she was never meant to be.

I’ll never know her but I feel like I already did.

I’ll never love her but I feel like I already did.

Part II.

There was a man I never met

whose features were his own and soft.

A man who resented his father for being a military man; 

his father who moved them often;

his father who hardened his son from a child to this man: respectful and boastful

no real opinions of his own, only those which are sure to impress his audience and his peers.

I’ll never know the man who didn’t care how things looked or what people thought of him.

I only know this man

whose weaknesses are cracks in his silver armor filled with gold to neatly disguise and patch together the pieces of his beauty and wealth so no one can see his tattered shirt beneath which protects a finely manicured heart like a well kept secret. 

I’l never know know the man behind the eyes that are so eternally sad.

I’ll never know the man I cal daddy;

the man behind the eyes.

I love him like I could love no man; I want to know him before he was daddy.

I yearn for his approval like I wish to fly to the stars and be overwhelmed by the beauty that came from the explosion,

I long to know him like I long to hold a moon rock and marvel at it;

to wonder from which disaster it has come.

I’ll never know the man behind the eyes like I’ll never hold the beautiful disaster, born a moon rock.

for all the cracks I’ll make in his armor trying to find the heart beneath, he’ll still only guild them with gold and I’ll look into his eyes from outside and wonder.

I’ll love him for the mystery and I’ll love him...

 I call him daddy.

Part III.

There is a man I cannot place whose eyes and hair and bones I’ve stollen. 

Whose nose is round like mine and teeth are small like mine.

A man I’ll wonder about all my life but never place. 

He is a father and a husband and a good man.

He is a kind soul with an accepting heart whose pages are open for his loves to read and know.

He keeps no secrets and is a giver;

as he has given me these ears, which flow right down to my head with no lobe like a mutant or an elf.

He is a man with no shape or form who has no voice or laugh or swagger but only the features he has given me.

He is the chromosomes that grew me like the water to my oleander and I’ll never know him.

I’ll never place the man but for the valleys and mountains of the face in the mirror.