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some lives are lateral, vertical straight.
Like the star crossed lovers in that old poem,
Not oblique, meeting in every angle
But paralell, infinite, yet never joining.

Two lovers once lived whos lines were circular
They spiraled out and only met when their paths finally crossed
The pattern of their movements was exponential.
It wasn't constant.

Speed was a factor, their lives began slow
Their meetings lingered.
But rather than slow down, their spiraling sped up.
And the circles grew larger.

And times would pass, more time than before.
And the meetings would come
But they would touch for shorter moments in time.
And so it was and they were aware of it.

They say it is because of gravity
That heavenly bodies move in their orbits
Perhaps it was the pull of their own hearts that drove them in.
Or something else that drove them apart.

They liked to toy with numbers, with patterns with time.
And all they knew was to make the most of their roller coaster fates.
But even commets that spiral, seemingly out of control
Can drift away, farther and farther...

Each cycle, larger than the one before
And round and round and round and round...
Even whole constelations turn to dust in the end.
There is no chaos, only patterns... some more complex than others.