Arguments with Arithmetic

Mars in her eyes. Distant fingers. The sun at the back of his head. Knowing everything. As a child does. Assumption and ignorance. Fire escapes not saving. Instead Letting them in.

Knowing nothing. As anyone must. The years encrypting all those lessons.

Going back. Because I can. Touch the time machine. Memory the catalyst. It's easy to find what I had wanted after the fact. Diminished patterns. Mathematics of lust. Prove to zero again.

What I wanted never attempted. What I needed only took the numbers as they stood. Divisions. Deep equators in the body. Where the hemispheres bisect. Formulas. The profound absolute that is the solution.

All valid equations.

Useless.

When attempting to count backward.

Some blind judge called then sorting all my epiphanies into the shapes of men. Smaller than I can fit inside.

Anything they haven't taught I've still managed to learn from them.

People. Lopsided mirrors. Flushing toilets. Overflowing with so much shit.

We protest the numbers, but are powerless.

I count the minutes out loud. As if someone can determine what's missing.