Map

There is a point - there always is a point
When where I am snaps into where I've been
When everything is suddenly in joint
And I can then, quite rapidly, begin
To slide the pieces carefully together
Each street or sidewalk in its proper place,
Connected by the necessary tether
To where it lives in my conceptual space.
Only when that happens can i stride
Into the dark secure in my own sense
That what is outer matches what's inside
And I am safe at least in reference.
Before the halflit streets were threatening
Now they are dim, and that's a different thing.