miyako73
02-02-2014, 03:43 PM
Your hard mathematics is life for me—
Numbers come in pulses and tired beats,
Shapes are those I daydream not touch,
Infinity is hope in my endless waiting.
My existence is plagued with unknowns,
Assumptions and cruel limits punish me,
Inequalities around me have no solutions;
My algebra is profound suffering multiplied.
I cannot connect the multitude of dots—
Lines and circles do not make sense to me;
I look at spaces as volumes of emptiness;
My geometry is deep solitude and isolation.
When you ask me about those equations,
I stare because only my eyes can answer;
When you tell me about those congruences,
I keep silent because only my tongue knows.
Miyako
(c) 2/2/2014
Numbers come in pulses and tired beats,
Shapes are those I daydream not touch,
Infinity is hope in my endless waiting.
My existence is plagued with unknowns,
Assumptions and cruel limits punish me,
Inequalities around me have no solutions;
My algebra is profound suffering multiplied.
I cannot connect the multitude of dots—
Lines and circles do not make sense to me;
I look at spaces as volumes of emptiness;
My geometry is deep solitude and isolation.
When you ask me about those equations,
I stare because only my eyes can answer;
When you tell me about those congruences,
I keep silent because only my tongue knows.
Miyako
(c) 2/2/2014