Math

Math is the answer
to everything, you tell me:
in all things, patterns-

in all of nature,
inherent codes, keys, and laws,
which provide meaning

Math is everywhere
like how they can measure light
through a vacuum, and

gravity's pull, and
the wavelength between two crests,
and lunar phases

But you know that when
the droning screech of iron
carrying its train

can still reduce us
to tears, it's not really math
at all; it's not fractions

or real numbers, or
some linear equation, or
absolute values

It's the split second
after I grabbed your hand
the first time, and you

didn't look at me
so I felt afraid that I'd
miscalculated

It is Murphy's Law
It is the frequency of,
and the exact pitch

of the deeper tone
you use to remind me to
lock my door behind you

It's the rate and speed
of your nervous pacing; it's
the hypotenuse-

the distance between
the two corners of your lips
and the precision

with which you tap your
fingers on your knees when bored
It's how you never

remember those few
minutes just before you fall
asleep each night, no,

math cannot factor
the circumference of your eyes
when I nip your ear

or how only you know
how long it takes to miss me
exponentially

Math is when you wrote,
"I can't see you anymore"
and I counted the

number of vowels
in the sentence seven times
before it sunk in

Nine consonants and
nine vowels; eighteen letters
in only five words

to set me guessing
the number of days before
I'd see you again

Math is how it took
less than five days and one kiss
to change your mind

Math is why they say
"what goes up always comes down"
but math is never

the reason we fall
The reasons are choice, chance, and
natural selection

Like how I might have,
and probably should have, yet
couldn't say goodbye

so I kissed you through tears
and buried my face in your neck
while you held me close

And when I asked you
how much you love me, you said,

"infinitely."