I am

I am the sticky sweetness of hazelnut spread,

the wood of a flute playing a lilting tune,

the slow-spreading aroma of mocha beans.

I am the rough crumbling bark

of a desert tree.

I am a field of cattails

giving under the pressure of wind.

I am the quills of a porcupine

protecting my fleshy underbelly.

I am the warm, sweet taste of hot chocolate

after a day in the snow.

I am the rich feel of freshly dug dirt

slipping through your fingers.

I am the first hint of sunrise,

bringing in the promise of a new day.

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