Lament of the Carefully Undressed

Cotton capris slide off legs
and stand up low on the wooden floor,
two perfectly crumpled empty columns,
waiting to be stepped into like a morning
in which she wakes alone,
no clothes thrown off like sighs
in small sleeping heaps with his.


One Response to “Lament of the Carefully Undressed”

  1. Fey says:

    How lonely the solitary laundry slumps, searching for its reciprocate. Like separated kittens who grow up Independent, albeit, aloof.

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