Curve's Koan

Words and wine, a line lost in the curve and moreover and under ...

"I'm not the same person," she said.

Fall frost and the tall tree fell, its straightness lost forever.

"Nor am I," said a different I.

Seeing the sea becoming bigger, I asked her to trigger a trick for me.

"Then let's not," she said.

She nicked her nose and a rose, ranting, pealed a petal.

"Not what?" I asked.

Such mettle and mind bound me to battle.

"Not get out of line," she said.

Rattle and roar, boor in the bottle; throttle your throng and goad your goatee. I have your genome.

"But we already are," I replied. "Haven't you noticed?"

He who bought true blue never will sever his connection to the curve, which is all and everywhere; can't even his aunt and ought not. 

Curve's koan: What might that mean?