Within, a sequence:
“storking” to the basket,
strumming the Gibson,
scrolling through the Zune,
concert tickets from a radio show,
and an essay in binary code.
These are the postulates
the proof of your uniquity.
The square root
of negative one equals “i.”
To Cyril’s dismay, you were never one
to show your work. But it would appear —
the correct answer, always correct.
Thumser took it more in smile, recognizing
in your back-row smirk the type
of defiance only talent allows.
You were the only one that understood.
You knew then, intuitively, and I know
now, more definitely. There is evidence…
Earlier this year, we met for the first time
in over half a decade. Amusingly,
you are showing your work everywhere
now. Television, the web, even numbers
hovering in Martian airspace.
Near the beginning, you said to me
“You’re married now…” “I’m proud of you,”
I offered toward the end, awkwardly.
I know you understood.