Platonic Thoughts in Non-Euclidean Space

How can my thoughts
be
so utterly simple,
yet so complex
at its own?

My thoughts form
platonic solids
in a non-euclidean space,
a space of curvature
and wonders.

The sphere,
my perfect little ball of paradoxes;
You are so simple,
yet so complex
like platonic solids themselves…

I’m living in hidden hemispheres;
how can I escape my personal horizons
if my thoughts are
perfect platonic solids
dancing on spheres?