Equations, by Karen Volkman
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedThe moon isn’t looking for solutions.
She’s grown accustomed
to partialities,
that accretion
of absence, her black scarves
plucked from the top hat
one by one.
Then a miraculous
cumulus, removeless
completion.
Stoic mathematician,
efficient wizard,
reveal your secrets.
A lover
is going, some lover is always
going. Such curious
quadratics that
will not leave me whole.
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