do not ever think that parallel lines
never meet
that is what geometry is teaching
you, because it is all linear and straight and
cold
because the Pythagorean theorem
after all
has not proved that at the tips of
triangles
the possibility that a heart grows
is so remote
on a chance of
winning a lotto game
even
in quantum physics
light bends to the bosom of
space
in love too
distance does not matter
darkness bends
to light
kings kneel on the legs
of slaves
crowns fall
and tongues love
what ordinary mortals detest
licking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem