Geometric Gibberish

Indescribably in a rectangular path

I measure height and you, width.
Diagonally we traverse crossing each other
Longing for a square.

Wishing...
(Alas, if we had been a bit alike)

Three points - You, me and us.
We try converging into each other.
Frantically you unto me, me onto you.
and the last remains, untouched.

(Lust is it that never touches 'us' (love?))

I always took geometry as philosophy.
The smallest unit, a point, is dimensionless- a dot.
Like my white wish painted against your black refusals.
Black and white - they crisscross. Coexist invisibly.

(What remains is an orange dot of defying Sun)

In this gibberish, which are too minute to understand
Or cynically un-reasoned,
I talk of future, you talk of facts. We sum up- failure.

But of whom? I ask, you ask - to each other.

Despite knowing the 'Earth is round'
We could never love circles.


SoUmY@

[Pardon my french]

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