Someone once told you that if humans lived many lives, then you were only living your first. It makes sense, there is a thirst that glows through your eyes; a thirst for the world and experiences. You crave interactions with other souls that you unknowingly dent, smooth, tear, and mold. You radiate a naive joy that grips our hearts tight. Your spirit has not begun to quiver under the weight of our world. The dirt and the blood and the filth have not tarnished your effervescence just yet. You are a newborn in this universe. That is why we cling to you like the fog over the coast in the summer. It is why you have such a tight grasp on our chests. We have lived many lives and our bones creak; our souls twisted and scraped up, worn out from too many lifetimes. We are just hanging on to the rare innocent bliss that you radiate through the tips of your fingers and the soles of your feet.