Shapes

Kill the child 

and lose the wonder for a shape, 

she said, 

It’s mathematical, 

A matter of proportion. 

 

Let set and find some rest, 

Enough 

with all the oscillating, pulsulating 

uncertain hints of breaking lines, 

Aren’t you tired yet of searching? 

 

I know, oh god, 

to be two things 

at once 

And let the tension hold it all together, 

Wouldn’t we be good, if we all could? 

 

And when you hold it, there you are 

Trouble is the holding on 

Don’t let it slip, don’t let it run ahead 

Can you balance it forever? 

 

The shores won’t wait forever 

And tides round here, they’ll lead you round in circles. 

Set a course and stick to it 

That’s the freedom that you get.