Bloom

There’s a depth to surface
You give your attention,
No? Earth’s just a surface,

The shell that you know well.
Every sphere surfaces
Itself. Topology

Is not some simple wave,
In any case. The curves
That turn into themselves

Are like words, are like you,
Puzzles worn inside out.
The whole’s not what’s enclosed

Alone, but also how
It shows open as well.