I Can Never Know You

My heart breaks into
a thousand pieces,
each reflecting
a different view of
your blood-red cloak.

It is a cloak of mystery,
one that hides
your body from
my view, a strange
enigma in plain sight.

I do not like
that part of you
that hides
away from me
that I can never touch.

I do not know
You,
the part that is
ashamed of
something I call light.

08 May 2006

I've just been looking thru all of the entries that i've put up recently. I think i'm obsessed with the truth. Yet it is a fact that no one can be truly truthful to another.

It takes a saint to not hide.

Perhaps even a saint has something he or she does not want to share.

Truth is elusive.

I might not think i'm hiding anything, yet the things i don't say leaves something unresolved.

Is there truth?

Or is it a futile search for the unattainable?