Dear Mud

Your multicolored skin smells like earthy patchouli

and I move in close to deeply inhale your scent.

You gently resist at my wire slicing through your body

and then allow my hands to push, pull, scrape, scratch, slap, squeeze and smooth you.

You are patient and forgiving, subtly guiding me into what you would like to be

and planting small seeds of ideas into my mind.

As you dry on the back of my hands, cracking my skin

I tattoo my initial on what you have become, forever leaving my mark.

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