Love and math. As rare as this combination is, for just a second, it makes sense. Math, the numerical metaphor for this thing called love, reminds us that we are more than numbers in our ages but comparably the rational in something much deeper that the universe is privy to. We can only hope that when we meet this kind of love, that we learn to count the ways towards everlasting.

the sleepless patterns
coincide with pie
and division… endless
multiplication, I imagine,
in theory our hearts
isolated in parenthesis
that straighten up suddenly
into an isosceles triangle–
the geometry of our love,
I hope, runs deep along these
parallel lines; and when they
tire and crash at last, contract
into a circle one (that is)
never-ending, infinite

© mr gahon 8/13/14


About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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