Tomorrow is Laundry Day

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I abandoned sheets long ago
They tangled easily, bunched in a ball at the foot of my bed
The single quilt, an untidy mess,
Is warm enough in summer heat. My discarded blankets and pillows litter
the floor
Left where they fell,
Where I cannot be bother to pick them up
The crumpled mess of orange and navy is comfortable
It feels lived in, safe. Tomorrow it will be stripped, the sheets and pillowcases
thrown into the washer,
Pushed, pounded, tossed, twisted
Stretched tight across the mattress, like a drumhead aiming for higher pitch
It won’t feel quite right
Like new clothes on the first day of school
Stiff, clean
And I won’t sleep well.
Not until my tossing and turning has softened the sheets, loosened them,
Not until they are tangled in a ball at the foot of my bed
And the single quilt is wrapped tight around my sleeping form.





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