Rubber button lost on calculator
along with substantially large index,
exposes errors like a mute translator.
My philosophy interjects:
"What about ratio of minutes earned
dividing circumference of her waist?"
my thoughts debated; I never learned
the common value of her face.
Multiplied by the birthdates wasted
to bend soil for her vegan gardens.
Square roots shot from potatoes, basted.
Overcooked, garnished with pardons.
This desktop huddles calculations
in the forms of inked-through papers,
yet I cannot surmise equations
for why I never did shake her.
At least grab her by frail frame-work,
putting kinetic to the testing.
But she oft warned me, with same smirk,
"Never wake me when I'm resting."
Bronze trophy winner
Adding your comment:
.....This is outstanding! Love the depth to it.
