The Fallacy of Symmetry

Consider the symmetry of the sine graph.

And the incline of its slope.

How far it rises above the axis

Is exactly how much it plummets.

And It's all a matter

Of where the point lies.

Now consider it all a lie

In the face of Love:

The mighty challenger of rational thought.

He who disproves

That the biggest waves

Crash the hardest.

He who untangles the myth

That 'good' on a perpetual scale

Eventually de-values into something stiff

In the lack of comparison.

Consider the man who said,

          "I must sin a filthy load

           In order to accentuate God's perfection."

And the clever

Yet fallible


Such an argument holds.

It's absurd.

As if to wish for bankruptcy

To make lost riches

Seem more valuable.

Such a point is left

To those who speak

The weak formulations

Of Love.

To those who speak

Of relationship gestures

As days in a week:

Adequately spaced

And defined

Enough to be named

And tamed to robotic tweaks.

     Those systematic

     Plastic roses

     Planted in her garden.

     Replacing the older, wilted types

     That have lost their right to function.

     Gassing up the car:

     The fuel involved

     In driving up a wall.

     And heading to that apartment

     Forever under construction.

Shall Love be relegated

To perfectly timed and preserved

Bites of frosting?


It is cake in the face!

I daresay

It is costing your soul

If you treat it as finite

And lace it to thrift..

          Buckets of water

          Do not pour in drips!


Speak the cynical

If you dare.

While I stare

Through tears,

I see a world through burning desert curves.

Sun-glare, gas-cloud vision

Lets me capture with precision

The in-betweens of all the blurs:

Here lie the subtleties

To black and white.

And I paint my skin

A vibrant shade of true

To further blend in with ocean blue.

And disintegrate into eternal flows

Of showing what we show

In waves of emotions.

          I sink into blood potions

          Of your life energy.

          Where enemies of Fate

          Cannot conspire and contemplate

          Towards that

          To which they cannot


If the rhymes sound polished and shined,

I assure you they reside

In their basic form

For now I can say

I seek solace in what is mine

For I have abolished

The clandestine

Of the norm...

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