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It's all in the title |
| Your eyes are foggy windows Big and gray and impenetrable. I can’t help but peer closer, deeper Thinking I’ll see more. You are more infatuated with geometry Than with ascending heaven-wards with me. You can’t see God right there In the limitless infinity of Pi. I wish I could cleanse your foggy windows Spray windex in your pupils and wipe them clean. You may go blind, But at least you’ll be able to see. Someday we will be late together And you can dance your mathematical equations with angels. I will kiss your eyelids clear. Your heaven will be full of geometry And my heaven will be full of you. |