The curve of the G

I love the way light attaches itself to an object, how it makes the shapes change, the shadowtricks, those lemon yellow twelve'o'clock afternoons, lunch on nice plates, the black and grey diagrams forming abstract rhythms inside my head, those electro-beats decorating that cup of tea sonically, the first half of the poem suffused in idealism, that felicity and how inherently out of our grasps our most honest expressions are, that first ray of light as it enters the room, that first look of love, that first smile that keeps immediacy always waiting at the door, like a smiling wolf or maybe an amiable chromosome bear singing in the key of B-Flat minor, the way the sound appears and fills the room... fully...