her heart was a parabola
her love spun out
in tangents
that spread like ley lines
across her history
each line was a dream
each line was a memory
golden kintsugi
that traced her past
into her future
her heart was a parabola
and although she could not find
its vertex
and although she did not know
its slope
she knew her turn had come
but she didn’t know
which way
she’d turned
Clio 3/13/23
