printed: F.U.C.K. Poetry Venture #015

        Two like souls dance in this shallow world.
           the ability to judge.
        Nightly outpour of some strand of me.
        Pulled taut between self realization and angst.
           But not the angst you now..
           He lies down the road around
           the corner behind the store.
        My angst is different.
        One day I might even get introduced to who he really is.
        Mortals may ponder and deem it worthy..
           of a new name.
                I care not.