uninformed

I knew the things you told me of
after you told me,
I knew my mistake
but you did not scold me for it,
though. I have been
uninformed,
slowly,
by time and weight
and drape and fade
in space,
form made unformed
shapelessness made
out of what I'd been so sure
I surely knew

and memory folds
its pure and crystal shape
and weight unchanged, it
holds its sharp place
grows strange
where I can't get it
or get at it, at all
and all I know
is that I was once more true,

I was truer to me
in that one remembered moment, then
than I feel I will ever
be now

or again