Math And Love Poem by Marieta Maglas

We need this trigonometric time

and this idiosyncratic

angle of view, stealthily

pinpointed in that circle


of sewing feelings. You

must have been transforming

their arc sine

so many times to have triggered

their zero values.


Love has always the same ratio pi.

You're a pirate, not a lover.

It was told you, but

you haven't given up ever since.

Even so, love is still

my reality & keeps hope

in the philosophical number 2.


2 is not a number,

but a fundamental notion of a pair.


Too despaired to lose it, you make an effort

to save this

treasure called love

when you search

for the Divine.


And this is worth much more to you

than what you really need to feel.

Our parallel lines of life are

tangents to this


circle of wills that

sends some secant

vibrations. The idea of never meeting is,

however, infinite in nature. Your thinking

becomes a mystery.

You are my mysterious, unknown lover

being a part of any

equation.


This way, you become mister Y.


You're mister Y from



'yacking',

‘yelling', and

'for yourself',



but you cannot be mister C from,


‘carry on',

from ‘conscientious',

and from ‘credible'.


Our existence is getting old

in new concentric circles.

We try to extrapolate it to infinity. You may be

my semi-infinity, but.....

Poem by Marieta Maglas