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Bliss by Jessica Brown
 

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  • I don't know what it means
    to be innocent.
    I'm not sure I've ever been
    innocent,
    untainted by desire and
    the pursuit of its fulfillment.

    From a tender age, I voiced my intention –
    to have,
    to be.

    To have a new name.
    To be naked.

    I blackmailed strawberries for screams.
    I stripped off my pink lace dresses
    and ran wild
    through the grasses
    golden locks bouncing in the wind.

    The sunlight winks at me,
    and I wink back,
    playing games with time and space.

    I don't know what it is
    to be innocent.
    Without a smartass reply.
    What's a dowel?
    I live on planet earth,
    I know the answer.

    I don't know how it feels
    to be innocent.
    But you do.
    And I treasure you,
    your precious self,
    in what appears to me, bliss.
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