In the beginning

We were new
the air, fresh and sharp against our lungs
we breathed in because that is all we knew.

Each hand stretched out
pushing against the world.
Soon steps would come pushing a full
body against the wind.

We thought
in broken id-like thoughts
of want
of hunger
of need

Yet we knew
what taste was
what soft felt like
blinking.

It was all new
until it wasn't.