Fractional Dementia

S, thanks for the inspiration. This one is for you.

You are a pattern in chaos
A vertex here, a circle there
Within that closed space
You hold
But what is
An entire world

Numbers and facts
You can be reduced to those
Ayes and nays said
About your life

The closed space holds
Matter that is infinite
Affairs, living, food and being
That tattles across
In many, many ways

Then comes a man
Spirited and drunk
And tugs at chaos
That very pattern
Defined by fragrances and nodes
"Nay, woman, where is your morality?"

The floating point is taken over
By bubbles and pine cones
Closed spaces do not have any character
Not even those fine wrinkles
Closed spaced do not hold any meaning
Not even when broken.