the shape of us

is it the circle of life
or more of
a square, or triangle,
I don't see
the roundness
of it all, at least not
yet.
I see a parallelogram,
an obtuse
triangle,
a rhombus, or two lines
running side
by side into infinity.
there's so little closure
in the lines
we draw,
the shapes we form. maybe
we're just dots
of light on a black sheet
full of scribblings
with no true
rhyme or reason.