Cloak for the mud

“I’m not going to sleep with you again,”
she says and kisses me
with mud

we stamp around in puddles
shoes off, socks dirty
clothes wet from the rain

we touch around
splashing mud on each other
and take our clothes off

I have waited in the mud
for rain, and she has waited for
a cloak to put on

but the cloak keeps
mud inside
as she wraps it around.

“I’m not going to sleep with you again,”
she says and wraps me
in mud.

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