An Impossible Math (Ii)

In this trigonometric love equation, You're my arcsine having a special The angle of view, secretly placed in that Unit circle of feelings. You may arrange My vision's arcs and dream's diameters Inside of it perfectly triangular, love will Always have the same ratio of pi. This pure Equation of love is seemingly incompatible, Because it keeps hopes in philosophical Numbers becoming common geometrically Shapes of love in self like hidden new Little hoops in those triangles searching For divine. Our parallel lifelines are two Tangents to this circle of love sending Their tangential vibration to forever, But not crossing at any point in this imperfect Round world of two, where you hang your dream. It's a secret place. I keep your dream safe in This beautiful madness of love. Your dream Becomes a mystery, you become a mystery Lover like an unknown belonging to any Equation. This way, you become my C. You're Mister C From concupiscible, From conspicuousness, From conscientiousness, And never from culpability, Never from culpability, Never from concubinage, And never from Charley. Our love is getting old in concentric circles, Those circles of time. We extrapolate it to Infinity. You are my semi-infinity, in which I Lose myself to be your unique star as that Already existent in a Romanian novel, Entitled ''Lorelei''. Poem by Marieta Maglas