We are parallel lines, an exponential bloom
where Zeno predicted your retreat;
and where I come through a, you come through b
--the two of us watching unyielding axioms
fill the space between us. One geometry says
we will meet, but each time I bend, you bend
toward a point beyond my reach. I want you
to be where I am, or I want to be where you are.
But a single truth has fixed us here,
and you are further for it.
--Barbara Perez here