I am Tie Dyed

Spirals swoop,

My eyes turn with each curve.

Evidence of creation shown,

On the hands of my

stained fingerprints.

Splotches splash

all my inner blue

to blank white.

Unique patterns,

Invented by chance.

Not one will be the same,

We are beautiful works of art,

Permanently stained.

My vibrant red,

Dances with illusion.

Calloused hands,

Squeeze fibers

as my oozing green emits,

Consumed by the

porcelain sink.

The masterpiece,

Worn on the shoulder

of the creator.

Embracing belief,

Of my own self expression.