I look at you and am
sort of discouraged at the thought of describing
this matter of becoming experienced
the incredulous taste of the many involuntary steps
  the shades of iello tangerine blue

I look at you and sense
my imagination that made itself
thinner over the years and worn,
to skew be yearned and altered, industrial variation of a
  vegetable never otherwise tasted

I look at you and shame
little child alive I have inside, fingers dirty
looking away and shy
  unhealed
who never yields but
   knows nada'll be the same.

-- in picture, above: carrots.