There are hidden lines

projecting out from all things,

which define relationships

between all objects.

The world is crowded with them

but thankfully they are mostly

only theory, imaginary lines

sometimes symbolized in drawings,

but they are everywhere.

We walk through them

like a sea of invisible reeds.

We break them, and new lines

define us, our motion, our place.

Skew lines extend infinitely,

never meeting, an unlikely

fate among the infinite.

Parallel lines do it too,

but they somehow know

each other, share a different

but common intention.

Who knows, they may be

secretly headed toward each other,

actually intersecting

just beyond the extent

of our logic,

or our ability to measure

perfect alignment.

But in the mind, ah,

there they extend forever,

delicious concepts unfettered

by metaphor

or some engineer

making things work.