How do I start this?
With a quiver of kisses
or the inertia of a love poem.
of what clarity you have hidden
In your cage of grids and deltas.
And what graph you have drawn to measure love like a dream.
Let me count the ways, paths and pages
Every line or dot that led to your lunar gaze
With the birds of love.
We did not care about the world and its instruments.
Indifferent at its prying methods and secret words,
We forget, we ignore it all
As if we were Infinity, the unconquerable.
But we are not.
The world would have its way
With its proof, geometry and our numbers that end.
We say farewell, curving
towards some synopsis of sorrow.
All because we are not wonderful enough
To solve the universe and its holes.
But in farewell, let us be sweet again.
In farewell we find
The ancient and primordial,
The finite lessons of love and its compass,
the cardinality of owing to ourselves a limitlessness we feel we deserve.
Ultimately, as true and as solid as ring,
We choose only two captivities beloved.
One that is wrought and hardened by this thickening numberscape of a world,
And another, delicate and uncertain,
in the quiver of kisses that started this all.