An available palette thickened by air
words I hold and so fast lose.
A thunder so low an inaudible present its slow
cycles place me shaking in its throat.
Stare and beauty opens like a work of fire
a made thing a connection must be made.
This is to say necessity is a place made all of stares
come beauty come the final ruin of the world. Stop :
for what it may be or was a burned-in-after-flash of fire
over distance measured light years. The glamour of it all.