i want to know if du/dt
is an accurate measurement of
the rate at which you were dying,
of how fast your tears
greeted the ground
as you slipped into still memories.
i open my school notes
& i see your name inscribed in every page.
grief is a legacy that
one plants in the skin of a child
& watches as it grows into
the opposite of a chrysanthemum.
i want to know if a quadratic equation
can tell if all my roots are yours.
but (mine=a second chance at life)
& (yours=a failed attempt at life)
yet, our lives are (each<0).
in Yoruba, a broken water-pot
is a metaphor for all things lost,
all things irreplaceable. all things
like you. i draw a graph of me & you
yet its intercept is where (life=0),
where you clutched your chest
& died with a tired sigh on your parched lips.
what does it give tonight—(me + you) (me – you)?
does it stretch over my blank mind
like an impossible function? or dance
into a definite resolution? whisper into the dark.
i dare you to solve me if you can.
