Intuit

intuit

 

innocence is my desire

a virgin birth's ennui

and in some of my dreams

i am child again

rambling alongside the house

touching plants, tasting sand

dust to dust to this

i forget at times that i used to live

live somewhere else and not in this place

this mind that seems lost, dis-moored

membered in disgrace

i point to the innocent

and feel the loss as if i once was so

i feel it desperate within

like a mother within the womb

without

and a child with a suckling breasts

without

i cling to naivety

but it does not talk to me

instead it smiles and forgets

and i am alone without the dust

for those who are never melancholy

i say, do not try to understand

you never were me

never will be