Microscopic shards of glass migrate through my hand

abrasively.

I appreciate color

and wit.

Color by num63r5

(hid secrets in the sequence)

knew more than it would expect.

Math is promiscuous.

If math were a woman, she’d probably be a librarian type.

(too cliche)

No, wait! She’d have superpowers!

(Like what?)

Her footsteps would be music.

Her doodles would be perfect spirals in the golden ratio.

She’d never be lost.

Her laughter would be coordinates to new lands.

She’d wear geometric patterns and textured stockings.

Colors would change around her,

depending on the balance of her bank account.

In theory, she could be a cook, but she’d never deviate from the recipe,

hence missing the most important ingredient: _ _ _ _ .

Goldfish are always happy in my mind.

I like to see them smile.

(Seaweed salads are much better tasting than I had originally anticipated.)

A collage of thoughts seems to go on forever…

What is that woman’s name?…

That clairvoyant, schizophrenic writer

Hannah Weiner, I think.

Hannah is a palindrome. Oh, how I love them.

Hearts and minds…

or stars.

(all shapes)