I'm folding things
I'm even folding my underwear
What else is there to do
I create tidy piles
place them side by side, fold
the socks, fold the photo frames.
Fold the suitcase
and lean in close, pull the zipper
until it's all away, a hard shell
closing over the soft
cottons and fleece. I fold
my body over the bag
where it rests on our bed,
feel the folding heat
of our bedside lamp
on my hair.
Stand up, I whisper.
Stand up.
But my knees fold
and I'm on the floor. I can hear you
downstairs, playing the guitar,
your body folding
around its mahogany form.Your body
folding away from us.
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