The Derivatives

November 4, 2007
By Bryant Dossman, Brunswick, NJ

The Derivatives

The derivatives of my fears
All stem from sequential occurrences
My hands weak from losing by one
Soothing music plays ever functionally
Reminding me of the elliptical night sky
Connecting the stars graphically
With our pointer fingers tracing
Out triangles, and
Laughing time and time again
Not knowing that this was a brief period
My mind going up and down like sines,
Expecting it to happen again, rationally
I was wrong, the root of my problems
From want of reliving the tangent
Of that time, that one differential night,
Where nothing could possibly factor into hurt,
the product of which could only be me and you

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