Learning things, I thought
I knew
innocence cannot be regained
cannot be found again, not
even its faded edges
that the entirety
of who we are
will always be less
than who we should be…but
we decide “should” and “have”
I’ve lost the thread before
and suffered my own loss
my own degeneration
but always aware of where
the bottom is;
knowing when
I can’t hear my own footsteps
it’s the sound
of a dead man walking…
we think it’s only us
only ever our own voice
in that echo
it is not
by listening closely
we hear humanity and grace
around the rough edges
where it has mingled and rubbed
against you
and you, and
learning things is how we know
that knowing is better than innocence
and it doesn’t rely on echoes
but grows out of
the edges of

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