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.