RELIANCE

For some things, 

a middle

may not exist.

The center 

of a universe 

cannot be measured; 

the heart of a process 

has a process 

for a heart, 

and no matter how hard 

you click "zoom in" 

and "enhance,"

all you see are 

smaller 

and smaller 

strands of self-

similar actions.

Therefore, 

rather than declare 

with any kind 

of certainty, 

I'd much rather 

speculate often

and wildly 

that the farther out 

from innocence I seem 

to spin, 

the more I must

give in to some 

tiny grain of mystery—

some talisman 

of confidence 

bounded by its absence, 

like the gaps

between lips in 

true love's first kiss—

my exact but 

mysterious 

center of mass, 

wherever that

is, or whoever 

it was.