Your eyes are foggy windows
Big and gray and impenetrable.
I can’t help but peer closer, deeper
Thinking I’ll see more.
You are more infatuated with geometry
Than with ascending heaven-wards with me.
You can’t see God right there
In the limitless infinity of Pi.
I wish I could cleanse your foggy windows
Spray windex in your pupils and wipe them clean.
You may go blind,
But at least you’ll be able to see.
Someday we will be late together
And you can dance your mathematical equations with angels.
I will kiss your eyelids clear.
Your heaven will be full of geometry
And my heaven will be full of you.
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