An Undarned Heart A poem

An Undarned Heart

  What do you lose (or can be lost)
as inno­cence slides, slips, slakes
the thirst for expe­ri­ence?
The ingen­uous corners of the mind are
(or must be) a memory, a vacated igno­rance
— true inno­cence cannot suspect
even itself
The loss, that new longing, is in the flotsam
of not having inti­mated the pain, the truth
in what you didn’t (or should not) avoid
Is a blank slate a construct, stitched
from tears, scars, lessons learned?
An undarned heart has no contrast fluid
that speaks of what it has been (or will be)

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Image credit: Emiliano Arano (adapted from source)

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