Math prose
Something a little lighthearted about a man deep in love with mathematics:
The equation of my pulse yields 180 BPM. Realize; that's 3 Hertz beating for you.
Do you understand the gravity of the situation? I'm falling for you.
Because if we were to compute our autocorrelation function, the time function would be the time spent apart from you.
Yes! When I'm without you, I become irrational, my cutie PI.
The Sin of flesh I want to consume with you is the Cos of my suffering.
You're the logarithm u to my exponential f. For you bring me down to Earth when I spice things up. And when we're together, life is in our image; unswerving.
And b(u(t)◦f(ul)).
Spoiler: It's me.
