here in 2D a single string is all my eyes can see
i'm satisfied with my design
number of sides
the shapes of things, a thing no one decides
it's what keeps everything in line
and in my thoughts a land of people who see only dots
why can't they see something so plain?
this king is blind to my perspective of him as a line
the realization of the slice's implication
you're out of my plane now
& all i have to see is upward not northward
you're out of my plane no i don't want to see it
it's so comfy here at home
(various readings from Edwin Abbott Abbott's "Flatland")
a point appears
a growing circle shrinks & disappears
it blows the walls right off my mind
it pulls me up to outer space
i feel i just woke up
the realization of the slice's implication
i'm out of their plane now
& all there is to see is upward not northward
i'm out of their plane
no one will ever see me, i'm so far away from home
no one will ever see it, now i'll always be alone