The Horse has two riders, one facing forward,
one back. Insolent, they stare at each
other. What path did the horse take?
In a similar tale, there is a cat.
Her assassin possessed with urgent ignorance,
Don't open that box! the man said.
Ships call to one another off the waterfront,
not out of loneliness, a ship in love is a wreck.
They share a kinship of distance.
This is the natural defiance of the river strider,
it falls to the atom to observe itself.
An ocean of belief is balanced by a drop of doubt.
Words are symbols, not cement. Call me a liar.
If there's to be uncertainty, let its mother be my mouth.