1
and
seven
squared
times twenty
again and some
more plus just a circle
or two, counting on fingers
to one, counting yet some more
and over and over again, don't forget
triangles now they count for a lot, you know,
figure it out, add it all up, equals a gazillion and
ten to the power of ten hundred thousand million+1

—formula for your endings; for these numbers to fade away, bespeaking something of infinity, i hear you laugh; beside you, i am only counting, continuing.

i remember how you hated arithmetic;
the nights spent huddled over assignments,
and in the midst of sleep groaning about numbers i never understood,
i'd like to count how long it would take for you to drift off.
i remember that you have ten fingers,
all of which have once touched me on wintery nights,
all of which have traced down the 65 inches of my body,
and you have two eyes,
the blue that ogled every part of me while in the shower.
and i used to love numbers,
because i could count each time i fall in love with you,
over and over again.
i remember how you'd mumble formulas in your sleep,
and i'd count each breath you'd take,
smiling to myself multiple times in the dark.
and i remember spending the 391 days without you in my life,
and it makes me hate numbers, too.

loss of ego immortal wound
loss of possessions
greed
identity
bohemian hallways crumble
souls escape through backbends
spiders build webs
as Lucy learns to walk on legs

an eye is opening
showing us as one
becomes infinity
escapes zero
precedes the binary
in the absence of (time)
the crucial slit makes here/there
omnipupil primes the present

3 6 9 ...
5 8 13 ...
17 19 23 ...
everything you want
nothing how it seems

Precious baby, counting sheep.
Tell me why your eyes can’t sleep?

Sweet baby..
No sheets.
This is different, not so sweet.

Darling baby, you can only laugh.
Memories they stay,
like Mary on stained glass.