Oil of Olay Frog

Soft, cool mud oozed between my toes, my woes left me alone to bask in a summer day.

An insect bit me on the arm causing a memory lapse in both me and the insect at once.

I perch above the creamy oil- 0f-olay sand, the waves swing in to smooth out the surface.

Now I have a clean easel, with rock in hand, sharp, swift I ruin important clouds of images that gently kissed my wavering thoughts.

I clear my throat, surprising a frog who takes his work day to a quieter place.

Again I bask in the sun like the frog before me.

I continue my day, alone, the frog gone

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