Poem : An Attic of Time

Time was a turbulence

When it was simmering hot

Time was a coherence

When it was bleeding blue

Time was a reference

When it was a static semblance

Today we transfer time to tensors

Today we truncate time for torches

Time, it is an axis for many

Time, it is a praxis for a few

Time touches dendrites deep

Time tasters decimals dear

Time to freeze my face

Time to frame my focus

Time is a triangle told by tensors

Time is a triangle told by tensors

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