Divided in perfect symmetry
Come the rules of geometry
Placed across the glass so clear
Making someone so far, yet so near
I could see right into their soul
And yet the picture could never be whole
For what is true when seen in triangles?
Who could hear the clang of the bangles?
Who could experience the brush of skin?
So much lost before we would even begin
We lose something in this treacherous trip
Keeping its potential balanced on the tip
Of a blade that is much too small
Waiting, teetering, prepared to fall
Though following theorems builds a structure
Such isolation in life only serves to rupture
The feelings we crave, the place we long be
Into things past which we cannot see