Your name was never known by me . . .
I knew only the challenge of your being.
Names were but idle labels
Obscuring the discovery of myself
Within the recognition of your glance.
Yet all I know of you
Was but a glance. . .
A severed smile
Which I filled with infinite wonder
And extended into illusion.
From the raw shape of your image
I have shaped a perception of you
Which needs no answer
But the silence of your absence
Filled by my abrasive imagination.