Love of Poetry and Math
Together we combine to become twice what 60 could ever be. The same ghost looked into my eyes. Also, the center of the circle is inside the circle. There is no way to draw a line, other than a border line, A language as precise as poetry to delineate universe and being, Deceptive as one over n as n goes to in nity, summed. The world is a complex system not de ned by any voice factored out of my voicelessness, the hypotenuse of course is the man who came between us doubting every gured guess, so, inductively, all of God's natural numbers fail.