of a dharma I don't know of, a dharma, I don't know.

Is it the content of this conversation
or the act of having it
that brings our minds down darkened streets.
again?

Again.

The same words we return to. The same prophets.
The same inkling that we both, you and me, the world and I,
this whole goddamned grocery store !

have felt that tremble.

It doesn't matter who we are reading,
or where we travel to, abuse and get abused,
or who we walk beside
that remind us
this street is one way.

as long as we stay reminded
as long as our midnight walks are guided
as long as our shameful fears confided.

uncertain in the truth.
truth in the uncertain.