Innocence lost
By Alain
I have lost the treasure of my childhood. Oh innocence, brief and erudite. You come back to me in abstract images, unforeseen, and constricted underneath unspoiled by corruption. Perhaps one day I will find you in a crate full of my old wardrobe and I will remember each piece like the earth remembers its geologic past. I will dig through every layer of clay until I reach the base of origins and the genesis of my transversed travails. Buried I will find the unattainable, interminable, treasure of the child who sought solace walking in the breeze observing the silent growth of flowers and fruits. Growing in absentia minisiosa (ad minitae) I only carry those books and writings I wrote. product of a swollen leg full of pus. They open my eyesight to the stars and above, to the letters and words, that keep me company like golden bars vestiges of innocence lost. Written February 18th, 2002 © on Feb 18 2002 08:07 AM PST 0 • 1
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"I have lost the treasure of my childhood...."