Proof of Love

A Year of Sonnets — 033/365

Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash

After John Green and Daniel Biss

When curious of how our story’d end,
I turned to mathematics, placing trust
in numbers — all the universe depends
on certain constant figures. So we must
forswear all frippery and place our hearts
within an iron matrix, plot our stars
against the basic nature of our parts;
reveal the bitter truth of who we are
and how we end. For every romance does
and I would tape my heart before it breaks,
that I am not destroyed by love that was
a gift — before it was a grave mistake.

All lovely things shall die, it is a doom
as certain as a rose’s timid bloom.