The Medium

She swallowed life. She spanned eternity.
She sounded souls orthogonal to breath.
She bound the parallels of parted years
That dissipate in compact sets of death.
When lust incinerates experience,
The soul resolves to analytic ash,
And spirit drains toward simple inference
In mathematics' elemental cache.
I wander lost. I long invisibly.
I howl in sinusoidal pantomime.
But she alone can sense the end of me,
Through parting eyes of love, ethereal prime.
I smell a thrill, but chills of night arrive,
And four essential axioms count lost lives.