I’ll Never Know

Falling in love with falling in love.
Sometimes the mystery itself becomes the relationship, and the poet seems to choose that beautiful, melancholy dissolution over the risk of mundane reality.
Hence…

the best woman
I never knew.

a rumor that walks
in a whiff of perfume—

my mystical muse
of mythic proportions.

Oh – oh – oh –

what shall I do?
ponder you?
wonder you.

the mystery of you,
the magic of you;
the unexplored of you,
the surprise of you.

You – you – you –

what shall I do?
build castles in the air?
meditate over you.

how compelling you are,
to remain in shadows.

the mundane is my life
without my thoughts of you.

Oh – oh – oh –
No – no – no –

what shall I do?
daydream you?
marvel you.

my hand extends toward yours;
my longing palpable.

your smile is the light
of a future bright.

But—
I’ll never know—

Yes – yes – yes –

the enigma of you:
unfulfilled, unrequited.

a shadow of thought—
a creation of my mind.

My – my – my –

what shall I do?
dream you?
yearn you?

I evaporate
in that liminal space—
fog and echoes—
before your ethereal eyes
know I exist.

Woe – woe – woe –

what shall I do?
ponder you, wonder you;
I’ll never know
as I slowly dissolve
into your mist.

my total surrender
my slow self-destruction.

my light blown out
like a candle in the wind.
Oh – no – yes – my woe –