Still Grace

Existing in all its singularity in a corner of a space,

grace glistens in the half-light.

a coalescence of unfettered flame,

blurred fixtures of an unnamed catalogue of which

potential is wrapped in paper stringency

Love melts in the mouth, the heart, the soul,

featureless and sulfuric and double-edged

nourishment lies in hurried mutterings and the stilted half-bow.

To trespass is to forgive, as is to dichotomise

gently kiss thy hands that bring you life

Crystallised, to all who know him.