I’ve been in love for 2153 days. That’s prime. A prime number.
I know because I looked it up.
And I figured it would be.
Because those sorts of things just sort of happen sometimes.
Love being special and unequivocally unique.
I’m guessing it wasn’t just the prime number of days in love, either.
I’m guessing I took a prime number of steps to your café table that one day.
And rang up a prime number cost of my latte.
It’s the way those things go in that “love” thing.
Off kilter, indivisible, pattern-less.
But fully of meaning that transcends: it’s the thing we think will let Artificial Intelligence know we are Intelligent.
A thing that people study for their entire lives to understand completely.
Wait. Love or prime numbers?
