Mathematical Infatuation

He didn’t buy her roses

Or wrote poems about her beautiful eyes

Filled with grass and rivers that flowed through her heart

They were not even a thought together

Or lovers together

Rarely in the same room together.

He didn’t smile and call her lovely

And beautiful

The world didn’t know

How his eyes saw her

Fresh from the day

Filled with gnawing sense of doom.

She was calculus

Differential equation of the world

Tied in knots

Of anxiety

And fear

They were not an equation together

For her x

His y was not existing in the realm

Of real variables.

But he saw some atom of her

In his eyes

Soulful when he landed them on her brow

He saw her without attachments

And her heavy load of constants.

He filled her with solutions

And straight lines

Plotted on axis of life

Demanded nothing of her

Only that she finds herself.

And she could see her own reflection

In his pupils

Dark and honest

Like a Browning sonnet

Only hers.