ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
literature
Strange Mathematics
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
I have charts meant for you.
They measure, in their own way,
How far away
How long past
A mathematical system of my
Involvement in this situation.
The distance between your hand and mine:
2.54 centimeters of an unshakable desire to touch you.
Or perhaps more conventional,
More romantic
And I can measure the weight of this feeling
On me in pounds and ounces.
When I cannot breathe
I can instead convert, rationalize.
The pressure of your lips on mine:
2 PSIs of knowing there is nothing but this moment, this sensation of you.
And even then the system seems wrong
Biased in your direction
And I tell myself that it is no matter
For someone like me
That I am above this argument
Of which is better.
The heat your eyes leave on my skin from across the room:
37 Degrees Celsius of wishing your hands could follow the lines your eyes do.
Grams or ounces, in inches or centimeters
The marks of a scientific mind
Quantifying everything
Quantifying you into my needs, my desires
Into everything you've become.
And I cannot choose, not between one and the other
In a convoluted disaster of which is more complicated
And which is easier for others to grasp
What I would give, to remove every measurement from this equation:
Everything.
They measure, in their own way,
How far away
How long past
A mathematical system of my
Involvement in this situation.
The distance between your hand and mine:
2.54 centimeters of an unshakable desire to touch you.
Or perhaps more conventional,
More romantic
And I can measure the weight of this feeling
On me in pounds and ounces.
When I cannot breathe
I can instead convert, rationalize.
The pressure of your lips on mine:
2 PSIs of knowing there is nothing but this moment, this sensation of you.
And even then the system seems wrong
Biased in your direction
And I tell myself that it is no matter
For someone like me
That I am above this argument
Of which is better.
The heat your eyes leave on my skin from across the room:
37 Degrees Celsius of wishing your hands could follow the lines your eyes do.
Grams or ounces, in inches or centimeters
The marks of a scientific mind
Quantifying everything
Quantifying you into my needs, my desires
Into everything you've become.
And I cannot choose, not between one and the other
In a convoluted disaster of which is more complicated
And which is easier for others to grasp
What I would give, to remove every measurement from this equation:
Everything.
...
© 2009 - 2024 Caillile
Comments1
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Logic and emotion tied together and fighting. Very well done.