there is one who shines
beneath this high halo
beneath this golden glow
of incandescent bistro bulb
it is a holiness lent by light
a heaven-sent hagiographic theft
that is accepted by the dead one
he who comes to life beneath
not so cold to the eyes around
now less corpse, more confidente
and open to confessional whispers
a beautiful illumination
not drawn
but
drawn by a distant artist