Wednesday, December 16, 2015

f (x) = 1/x

Alethea, you are the logarithm to my exponent.
For as long as I can remember
I have wanted you to be my tangent,
but as I chase you, always moving
closer, though never crossing understanding,
the only thing I have truly come to learn
is that you are an asymptote.
This desire for your Cartesian curves
finds its way into my every thought.
In my pursuit I have found love letters
written by countless radical minds greater than my own.
 Standing on each other’s shoulders,
they exponentiate themselves to you.
Yet even they were unable to solve for your affection.
How can i even imagine doing better?
Still, the purity of your perfection
is too alluring a plot to abandon.
I want to know you.
But even if that can never be I will continue
to move toward you fraction by fraction,
always the inverse.

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