she never thought <br />that I might know a <br />woman's way to <br />love in silence, <br /> <br />she never saw <br />me by a woman's <br />love, but paid for it <br />with my absence. <br /> <br />a woman's silence <br />can't be bought <br />and must be paid. <br />she taught me this- <br /> <br />the silence of <br />a woman's love, tension <br />recovered. how many I've <br />heard, remembering <br /> <br />what could not <br />be cheap or simple, <br />but love reflected <br />in the past tense, <br /> <br />days behind her <br />using her love <br />to solve and create <br />those memories, <br /> <br />withdrawn, shadowed <br />by a film, itself <br />projected to a screen, <br />filtered with silence. <br /> <br />this one never heard <br />her voice, used <br />speech in other ways, <br />by lapses, hoping <br /> <br />to have all of them <br />filled without asking, <br />pure that way, in <br />lack of control, <br /> <br />for what must be <br />asked can not be given, <br />what is offered <br />is stored, restored <br /> <br />and once lost <br />could be bought or <br />thought of again. <br />her silence <br /> <br />remains with me, <br />her words without <br />echoes, her presence <br />cut and recut <br /> <br />like a film, like shadow, <br />inflected by <br />the random construction <br />of her memory, <br /> <br />resonant somehow, together <br />her silence and mine, <br />reflected in her new past. <br />my future seems <br /> <br />to be the creation <br />of another one's memory, <br />one more reflection <br />never seen, <br /> <br />never felt, heard, <br />but in that way. <br />one more, a silent <br />one remembers me <br /> <br />and I feel her gaze, <br />her thoughts of me, <br />that were never <br />there, with me with her.<br /><br />Jesse Weiner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/afterimage/
