Innocence
BY Joshua Merchant

I am between six and seven years old.
an auntie or grandma or uncle blessed
me the way our elders do, a wad of cash
folded, gently pressed in the palm right
before the I love you, take care, don’t stress
your mama too much, I’m gon’ be checking
for that report card next time I see you.

It is the first time seeing what they call a barren
soul, someone so naked they can’t help but
tell the truth, even when lying. this version
of the truth is the part that remains impossible
to lie about, I am homeless and hungry.

I replace the dying battery in my chest
with a twenty dollar bill in between two
dirty fingers. I was scolded immediately.
I can barely afford to take care of you.