Mathematical Love

I preferred sweet-nothings,

instead of trigonometric talks.

Coffee cups, instead of scales

and protractors.

Poems, instead of equations.

Love letters, instead of

theorem papers. 

Doodles, instead of graphs.

Did I ask for too much?

No. Those were simple things.

I fell in love with someone

who never knew about

finding joy in simplicity.

The mathematician had eyes

only for the nerd.

'She' believed in all the algebra

that he talked about.

I, for once, couldn't get past

my hopeless romantic nature.

Why would he believe in magic,

when there were numbers?

Why would he trust fiction,

when he had facts by his side?

Over the years, he realized that

he had always paid attention to

intelligence and ignored normalcy.

He realized that love came

in simple flavours,

rather than the ostentatious tastes

that his past lovers had showed him.

But then it was too late.

Too late to embrace

the simple, simple love.

Too late to forget

the mathematical love.