Intersecting Planes of Concern
A blink (I think) is the problem
to the solution of time
plus salt minus thought
devoid of (not divided by) skin.
Maybe sin should be squared.
(The little two not the shape.)
In the interest of chemistry.
Never geometry. I failed
that function when my slipper broke.
Glass. All over the classroom.
Illustrating
my point: the silent irony of unshed blood.
Brilliant isn't it?
Plath would be proud.
If she could configure
the dimensional ramifications
of her death. (Though there are
a few who believe she did.) What
a blustering cluster fuck
that would cause. Over cock-
tails. Here's to the ghost,
the bard and the muse.
The only equation that never
comes up false.
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