Grace

 You died 

And the traumatic attachment

Of your death, 

Tore me in two. 

You, and what you must've been through

I still wish to grant you reprieve

From every wrongdoing dealt. 

Life does not allow for what is not

Meant to be. 

And you were meant to be

In the exact design of all you were

And all you serve in memory. 

Whatever you liked,

Deserved your amiable affections 

Your keen assertions 

Accepted. 

There exists a line

Between the action, and

The motive 

Of you.

For all your unspoken reasoning 

Brutal wisdoms flowed. 

I took your word, 

Your look, 

Your unwavering language

Took them all to heart, 

And ate their meaning

In the hope that I would better understand

And deserve your trust. 

The inhalation of my sensitivity

Cooked your nerves

My comprehension levels took a while

To catch up with deeper understandings. 

And in your ever-after

There is no flower I would  not pick

Or pilgrimage after

To lay in honor

At the altar of all you were

And Are. 

Privileged to have come

From 

You.