She’s sitting on the floor
running numbers through her head
I’m on the couch with a novel
and a beer
She’s mumbling to herself
about the order of operations
common denominators
decimals and fractions
and I’m a distraction
running my hand through her hair
She’s moving too quick
with her hands around a notebook
and the moment isn’t taking
any chances
It’s screaming past us in a blur
of missed opportunities
electric cars and formulas
skydivers and percentages
sleeping dragons, microwaves,
and Mayan calendars
I’m scanning the pages
without reading the words
she’s throwing her pen on the table
we’re lost in the equation
there’s no reason to worry
I’ll let her figure it out