《My Skin: Red, Yellow, and Blue》


 Its just the slime talking

    Would you still love me if I was a worm?


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°I think you¡¯re the snail that eats the worm.¡±


    ¡°Snails don¡¯t eat worms.¡±


    ¡°You never know.¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ I¡¯d still love you if you were the worm.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll love you by staying still.¡±


    ¡­..


    Snails.


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    Slugs.


    Squids.


    Snakes?


    No, that¡¯s not right. But I can¡¯t be for sure. I¡¯m not confident.


    I don¡¯t know which she is. All I know is that she¡¯s gummy. Miry.


    I can¡¯t find my balance. I¡¯ve sunk into the brown. I can¡¯t feel my toes, but I know they¡¯re wet. Sludge between the stretches, deep in my nails. Too far gone my legs have turned brown. It¡¯s a nice shade. I can¡¯t see them.


    I feel brown.


    Perhaps she is a snake in the mud. I can¡¯t see her. Something slithered across my thighs. I feel slightly aroused. She licked me with her long tongue. Supper on her lips. I¡¯m not sure if I am blessed with enlightenment or dripping in guilt. I¡¯m paralysed between the discomfort. My body painted in dirt and slime. I feel it between the crevices. It¡¯s an odd feeling, but not entirely unpleasant. It¡¯s warm, pulsating against the pulp of my flesh.


    I think there¡¯s earth in my veins. I feel brown.


    But I don¡¯t think her a callous serpent. Such a creature would be incapable of benevolence let alone endue one with epiphany. She had been sincere with her kisses and tender to touch.


    Would she be a metamorphosis of large snail under the mud?


    I can¡¯t feel her shell. She is supple to the bone.


    Maybe a slug.


    Or a squid.


    In the mud?


    No.


    What would I know. It might just be the slime talking.


    I¡¯m murky brown.