Contributor: Rishikesh Ingale
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My soul is a die with an unknown number of sides:
a conundrum that number theory or combinatorics can’t solve.
My face is the puzzle which conceals it,
a colorful Rubik’s cube waiting to divulge the answer.
My mouth is like a changing landscape:
sometimes it is sweet, sometimes it is spicy, mostly it is bland.
My nose is a guide;
it finds and recognizes--the acute sense.
One ear hears music,
the other hears screaming.
My eyes are biological cameras that give me power
to command computers and talk to Newton and Einstein.
Uniformity is an anomaly,
for this is an ever-changing world.
A gray area is given with great measure,
and my brain is the Supreme Court.
Discrepancies, difference, and disparities define me in some odd way
for the sake of purpose, plan, or principle.
Maybe my soul is actually a source of bright white light,
my face being a prism showing separate colors of the spectrum.
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Rishikesh Ingale resides in Southern California. He loves to code, play tennis, and read novels. He tries to find an explanation for everything and is also a realist.
Prism To My Soul
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