We play on fine sensibility and logic. We look in spaces between our words and words are best approximations. Now we play along with the artists who had their own approximations that tended to infinity not stopping.
They reach approximate pie value but not its core beauty that is truth deep in ocean, surrounded by tiger. The tiger is meager approximation in a blue ocean with a rocking boat while the parents tended to infinity.
Beauty is not truth, only tends to it ,when you divide it by your nothing. Like parents it tends to your infinity. Your truth is infinity’s not stopping, tending to it, divided by your zero, the spaces in words lapsed in time.
(recalling the beautiful movie The Life of A Pie)