My muddy heart
is chasing after twin minerals and bacteria

That once I collected
long before I knew
how to control dirt collection

My muddy heart
magnetized to boys in ways that would un-soil my dirty heart
if I would only
let it get cleaned

My muddy heart is pulling me
frequently
into dark halls wreaking of swollen apples and old book alleys in stores made of mildew
In search

Of another muddy heart
To clump together
To make a mud home
With a circular bed that hangs from a tree with a fire pole and kale in the ground
and wifi and no judgments
and therefore
free to shake the fucked up parts
Out of our torn up rugs
And crusty hearts
For good

Thank you to filthy hearts
For the exquisite part
of Life
Is dissecting all the bits compacted around the throb
Just like we did with in grade 4
With owl pellets
To see what they swallowed
That day

Thank you muddy heart
I’m happy you’re not the most sterile part
more important for my toilet seat to gleam
For that is where the people seem
to sit
and I am relieved they don’t sit
on you
so I will keep you muddy
so they do not ever want to