The area of a cold autumn
Wind in addition to 

A crescent-colored inkling

Equals some kind of infinity.

It’s squares and circles minus
Any parachutes,

And flighty parallelograms,

The wealth of a clown, the diameter
Of a déjà vu,

A rain puddle of kisses
On the pavement’s cheeks and ears,

And between the stars
The gossamer of the cosmos.