For Inktober's Muddy prompt, I was a bit stumped for what to do. My mind quickly turned to muddy boots at the thought of the word, so I went with some adventurer's muddy leather boots. As for the poem, I wanted something to compensate for the tameness of the illustration. Below is the transcription:
a familiar smell:
fresh Earth and
aired out secrets.
his
muddy
footprints
on professionally cleaned
carpet. how awfully strange.
bodies really
don't stay buried
out here
do they?
'Secrets'
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