This girl, I know her.
There is her face, and I know her.
The curve of her shoulders,
Knuckles and ankles and veins.
Her eyes see but are not seen.
Her soul speaks, never heard.
There is joy and life and fear in
Ever scar, every inch of her skin.
Not so long ago, I would have stood
In front of a lineup and chosen anybody else.
I would have scanned each unfamiliar face,
And settled for one that was not hers.
But not now. Now, I know her.
Finally, I recognize her face.
I see those eyes, I know her soul.
Finally, I recognize her.
Me. I recognize me.