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Poetry

a trigonometric sonnet

Pardon my blasphemy for just a sec

But ratios don’t exist without us

For if there’s nobody there, not a spec,

Then nary ratios shall be discussed.

*

Sine, cosine, tangent, and their inverses

As long as we brains persist as well

Will always exist though some in verses

Even if there’s nothing than us to dwell.

*

As long as there’s something to be compared.

(Black and white, humans and the void are some)

Then me to you and side to side will bare

As these strings of dimensions somehow hum.

*

Until there’s nothing to place next to

And a singularity as all through.

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