This was meant to be sexier. Then it just got nerdy.
September 25th, please?
The Integral and the Swain
He dabs sweat with his tongue in a sheer summer’s sun
On the cusp of some thought indirect.
The swain, much too young, but a dire heat has spun
A dihedral where planes intersect.
The slope of his eye, slanted grin each imply
Something tangent and best
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