I feel like unfolding into different emotional geometries.
From a central point
I draw out shapes.
From a central point,
I become a triangle.
Then I am trapezoidal.
Now I am hexagonal.
And slowly I become fractal,
developing into the expanse of the unknown.
I want to return to you.
I want to feel as though one of these planes
might bifurcate, and somewhere down one of these legs,
I might be led back to your sheets.
Today I spoke to the trees and I spoke to God
and I said:
Wow, all I really want is to kiss your lips just once more.
And deltoid-like, I collapsed
Slowly imploding back in on myself.
My center of gravity is off since you’ve left my side.
And the world around me seems to have slowly lost its order.
Out of orbit.
This game is silly
and I used to love you.
Doesn’t that count for anything?
An astrologer told me that starting last week
Venus was entering Gemini
and would stay there for 4 months.
Something about lots of temptation and little stability.
Maybe that’s to blame for all this.
I have run out of weapons to point at your face.
I am running out of options.
You and your eyes and my weightless body in an empty room
an indefinite blueprint
where I hoister a tattered white t-shirt.
My arms are scarred by the leashes of love
but you miss the
Here the squad fired,
but in retrospect,
you had already left.
Maybe you were never really in the room.
Jacob Steinberg never studied math.