You do all you can to undermine the reality
of an ordinary day. Desperate passions are your pastime,
though, including this time, you've had only one of these,
lasting all your life.
When your heart climbs two feet in your chest,
you think of new discoveries in mathematics:
strangeness numbers, absolute elsewhere, and the baffling graphs
that try to chart baffling galaxies. You tell yourself,
"He didn't come into my life to make it simple."
With the basic love assumption that other loves are lesser,
less intense, less necessary, and your solidity fluttering in
you're the ideal fool to live through all this feeling.