My stories endlessly revolve
    around the heavenly bodies
     of narcissism and desire

(Sex and beauty also feature
    but are forever tainted with
        the calculus of good intentions)

The tide of humanity
    washes
        over
            me

I mix my metaphors
    and conjure memories
        into bittersweet cocktails

The stars circle silently above me
    showing the only way that
        math ever makes poetry

— Early 2010s, after-Thailand, before-Tink

Originally posted at adam.nz.