Exactitude

Is it possible to know what we want?
Don't we still get ahead of ourselves
not at all unlike

a five-year-old child who thinks it knows
what it wants, if only for a moment
an hour, a minute 

before it finds itself wanting something else
yet again.  How we spent years trying
exactitude.  I think I know

as I've been taught, and learned:
to envision the map, to draw it carefully 
as a CV, a bio, a folder of

accomplishments, works in progress and 
downplayed failures, silent emptinesses.
And when the map

is finally done and we stand right at mark
the middle of X, we find ourselves:
the audacious asking:

do you really know what you want?