Folding Laundry
Socks. Warm. Paired and rolled.
Your shirt, untangled,
arms crossed and behind the back,
Mine, missing a button. Torn.
Still a little damp.
Your jeans. Those back pockets.
Worn at the knees.
My khakis unbuttoned, unzipped.
Legs folded together.
Bra and underwear, undone
and tossed in the corner of the basket.
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