In the folds of forms, a type dance unfolds,
Grid-bound tales, three shapes retold.
Sharp edges cut, curves intertwine,
A symphony of letters, a visual shrine.
In the grid’s embrace, an 8x10 space,
Shapes converge, a rhythm, a grace.
Life’s folds meet type, disruptive and bold,
Stories carved in the sharp and the cold.
Beyond mere letters, a language evolves,
Thankless poetry, where story resolves.
Curves bring comfort, soft as rhyme,
A poetic flow, defying time.
On this stage, where forms align,
Type becomes art—a design divine.