Allie Marini Batts
Allie Marini Batts

here is an origami of us

neatly creased, a crane. at any vertex, a sum, 180.
here in the corners, two planes, you and I: tessellations,
anything that keeps to the fold.
a form from mathematics and obsessive motions. a thousand to
grant a wish, or prosperity. a coaxing of love, to lure away the cancer.
a thousand years of happiness in the vertexes. hidden there, beneath
rigid right angles. the number of valley and mountain folds, divided
by two. always by two.
always differs by two in either direction.
mine and yours, unfolded, like wishes, these vertices,
the duplicity of mathematics, the treachery of ungranted wishes.