A garden grown in concrete substrate. A drop from the deep blue.
Above the substrate, the canopy unfolds as a lattice of leaf-veins and lattice-light. Geometry and chlorophyll exhale together. Every frond is a theorem; every theorem grows toward the sun like it owes nothing to anyone.
Sneaker drops happen in this clearing. The ferns wear them. The moss approves. Spray-paint fumes settle into the soil and the soil writes them back to us as poetry.
roots speak in frequencies
Tessellation crawls under the moss.
A theorem germinates in the dark.
Where geometry remembers it once was alive.
at the bottom of the abyss, a leaf is still a leaf.