gigondas

Do you think the infinite truly wishes to notice you?

The angles cut from all sides,
the pain permeates,
while dimly recognized
as a measured
absence
without declaration.

A bankrupt descent
of numbers-
less people,
less places like home,
less speed when running,
less light every day...

I sleep and sweat
and wake...

longer to cum,
longer to care
and long periods
of being bankrupt,

after 38 years of disappointment,
the mathematics are inevitable,

insatiable,
formulaic,
irresistible
and shit.

every attempt leaves a negative
imaginary
number.

do you think the infinite truly
wishes
to challenge
you?

left defiant and homely,
you crease your angles to mean


something.



Good
fucking
luck finding it.