Human Math

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If you need me I’ll be here a poet said still writing about the end of the world

I forget where I read her voice

We were trains passing on the internet

Now the inflamed Gulf burns my pupil’s pinhole camera coral neon blue

On the horizon a wooden ship

Count the sails

Count buoy bells summer clouds migraine hatching under the hairline count

Tiny fractures along your belief system

We live in a reckless formula I can’t see what makes it true

Look past no flinching to where the constant disappears

Galactic eons divided by butterflies minus stone tombs to the power of grass

I can’t solve for mortality