R to the n, where r stands for romance
And n for the imaginary number of love
Gives us an understanding of feelings
That connect us to each other in real time.
Imaginary or infinite, lust makes us grind
Our teeth, upper against lower, for hours
Without even realizing the force expressed
By our painful grimaces, to each other.
Transitively reflecting the momentum
Or the velocity of my affection for you
Against a mirror held up with little more
Than sweetness and the light in your eyes.
Take the intersection of the product above
With the far from quotidian embraces shared
Until you reach the wonderful asymptotic line
Where there is zero distance between our hearts.
BillSaysThis 