We draw the distance between us closer even the odds are imaginary.
We intersect at such point though we are parallel.
Our lines are right, aren't they?

Time and space make it isometric, real.
Is it actually real?
Or actually a tangential feeling which is only adjacent to the vertex of love?
That I understand not.

Mind over matter I must.
Letting the ratio completely imbalance I fall to the critical values of emotion.
The ***** is steeper. I fall if I don't run.

But I think I might just continue to extend the line wherever it takes me.
It might stop or infinitely endure the constraints it intersects.
Well, the plane is vast.
But oh, the world is small.