Saturday, December 31, 2022

Mode 33

You can do your own math
Art doesn't work alone
It doesn't create something new
An understanding never intended
Math doesn't need an audience to be discovered
How we would talk to unknown intelligence
A golden record of mostly math floating through the cosmos

Down certain ravines there are answers
From certain height we can see

I need a sunny day
Flower to fill my poems
A woman no one dreams of
Starlights to set the scene
Nothing I need to understand

This moment I steal myself
No contradictions to resolve





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