shapes.

origami folds
building the ceiling
of office cubicles, tiling the sky
as we watch from a bland carpet
with monocle eyes
that see much better than our own.
 
searching the crevices of spheres
at their sharpest corners
has never been more sincere,
when circling these cylinders
we call fingers.
 
feeling as though
shapes are in our lives, as we sit
and enjoy squares at the kitchen table
and drink wishful eternity
from our soda cans, letting
the world and it being less
get the best of us.