Sometimes I wish our feelings were a
vertex- poised together, clinging onto each other and converged to a point; but you and I are not equilateral. My favourite irregular shape, we were never meant to have straight lines- we are as voluminous as the night sky, we expand and stretch and can’t stay still. You and I are a constant, not designed for square holes or small spaces, we are an infinite equation.
A line was drawn across our path, and it left us with negative spaces far too great in diameter to fill on our own. I swear I’ll walk over vast planes just to see your perfectly angular face, you’re buried in the apex of my asymmetrical soul.
I wish I could silence my concaved heart, I wish there wasn’t a chord stretched 1500 km from my chest to yours, but you kissed me irregular and stroked my face until I was undefined by everything but your fingertips.
Yet, the length and breadth and depth of my affection is greater than the distance between points A and B, you and me.
So good night, my parallel line, how I wish we could touch.