It’s Poetry Project Saturday! Here is Coloradoan Raylene P.’s poem for her word “equate.” I.. somehow made this poem kind of sexy, and I don’t know how that happened.
First, outside, inside, last-
our breathing ragged, the subtraction complete.
The signs are all there:
we are divided,
but nonplussed by the solution.
We were both imaginary,
your slope indefinite, your curves
and mine constantly negative:
concaved, convexed, vexing.
Our lines never intersected
we were parallel, never touching.