There's an elegance
to the math
but
it's too complicated for
us to understand much less
make a career of writing
ring looped code
or father toddling
equations.
At best, we fancy Newtonian
relationships,
common sense ones that any 17
century young Romanticist
would Realize
The faster we accelerate into Love the greater
the Force of our relationship
and the Mass of our egos multiply the effect
A Love in motion stays in motion
If only we live in vacuums
our fairy tale would never end
and the forever after is locked,
safe behind Castle doors
But our stories are more like Grimm Tales
Impulse
forces of liberated Egos
change the trajectory
of our real
love.
Random white cue balls
bounce us into a side pocket.
And who's to know?
Are the cul-de-sacs
any worse than
landing in an odd corner,
bunched in with only
a stripped
or solid ball?
At least we didn't scratch
against some misshapen Black
eight