Noi viviamo sommersi nel fondo
d'un pelago d'aria
(We live submerged at the bottom
of an ocean of air.)
--Evangelista Torricelli
I knew immediately
you were a mistake
that I had been tricked
as had your birth mother before me
into something I should have resisted
but for desperation
for a home, for love
and a cosmic error--
and a malady, not a melody
as might be the autocorrect
version of this story.
An illustrated version
of why some believe that evil
is created at the point
the infinite meets the finite.
Autotune your way out
of that one
on your way out. You will find
your exit
more graceful than your
entrance but equally
as excruciating
But your mathematics were so beautiful
your poetry an acquired taste
I was fooled into thinking
that your soul must match--
unfortunately this turned out to be true
a predator always
shows his colors in the end
Neither the fullness of emptiness
where the divine is easily
found through simple
machinations in equal measure
to the complicated
but the emptiness
of a black hole
at your core
the coldness of deep space
inverted at the plane
where a star goes to die
because it had nowhere to hide
I think of you with indifference now
it took great courage
and came at great cost
and what helped the most
was that it impeded you not at all
and yet you held on
to something that had been mine
after I had thrown everything
of yours I could away.
