Geometery
I watched your back as you strode
the horizon's infinite triangle
sturdy limbs retreating you,
whose palms, knees had never
rectangled my torso, thinking
of the gaze never concentric,
heart-kisses stuck on teeth.
You vanished in perimeters,
clogged areas of strangers.
I winced, summoning thoughts
like, “what is the square root
of twelve hundred nine,?” the date
on which we met, or “how to measure
the tiny round seed which, sprouting,
made love to our doom?”
A yellow isosceles lit the ground;
I bisected it bitterly, thinking,
love must be amorphous,
like water, like white doilied foam –
can only be contained only by
huge polygonal stone.
I sensed the swing of your
fleshy unclasped hand --
a starfish from the ocean,
that diamond we never swam.
Copyright Julianza Shavin 2008