Getting To Know You

You were taboo The one we didn't talk about A faint memory shaping my life. You were a presence Real once now gone But you lingered in our minds. You were the curiosity The one I couldn't ask about Starting tears and days of sadness You were the obsession the one kept secret But I took note every time you were mentioned I hold close every vague detail wanting to learn The storyteller is gone and I'm searching. I rummage through her things looking for you, and there are few answers; So few pictures and a small box of writings Some may deem it easy; Asking your siblings or mine. Breaking through the wall of silence takes more breath than I have. And so I sit with a box of letters and poems Trying to put together the essence of you. Heartbreaking notes-- their love and contents painful and rare too brief sentiments-- sent from reaches of the world. Strophes, carefully crafted and guarded Lest parts be deleted in transit. I look at my own scribbling And I see part of you, A precious part, that no one else shares. I guard it jealously hording it away from the light. This is the one part they cannot have. This is the only part I have and they don't. They have memories, I wonder if they can be persuaded; I wonder if they'll share. I'm just getting to know you, but, perhaps, I had one of the best parts all along.