Down the Hall

I thought you would feel better
Purging your room
Of the monsters in
Your closet
Or the ghosts you keep trapped
in your mahogany desk drawer
From the hotel
With the broken brass handles
That you never used for school work.

Instead you gave me her sweatshirt
Blue, and from a camp that wasn't mine
And though ratty I proudly wear it out
Pretending that I have it
Because she's my friend.

You know if you wait long enough
I will sort your dirty laundry.





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