Silence

You, the Philosopher.

Me, the subject

        to be hemmed

        and regarded

        and prescribed.

You wanted dialogue,

but only left breadth for my

        silence.

You, the Artist.

Me, the model

        to be still,

        to be captured.

No turning my head,

no looking away,

no parting my lips:

        “Silence.”

You, the Agnostic.

Me, the rosary

        to be Beauty,

        to be Saintliness,

        to keep you near the Faith.

You wanted to pray upon me

while I lay within your hands in

        silence.