Some days make me want to squeeze my soul,
like it's an almost empty tube of toothpaste.
Some days, my momma told me, are elbow grease days.
And so I scrub my heart on those days,
and let the soap suds rinse off old grit.
Some days never come at all,
no matter how patiently I wait.
Some days I have to reread everything, because
the sun is too damn hot for me to
figure it out the first time around.
Some days, pictures aren't enough and words aren't
enough and mud is just a memory.
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