The Algebra of Wickedness S through X you’ve no equal, an answer without an equation, how I’ve come to you on so many occasions, taking advantage of six variables and nine positions in your order of operations am I the metaphysician to cure the loneliness of your condition? or am I just one parenthesis bending to your whim in a series of characters, a string of figures led on by you? those of us who choose to do this to make our Selves more miserable on purpose, know this is just half the trouble that having to exist after the problem is the algebra of wickedness, which, for such a literary man, is scandalous as every letter reminds me of your body, how I cannot, for the life of me, solve what makes your pursuit so worthy. Share:ShareClick to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)Click to share on Skype (Opens in new window)Click to share on Telegram (Opens in new window)Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window) Related March 15, 2018June 11, 2018 Categories: Poetry