socks
Matching socks
and I'm thinking of you.
More like dirty laundry,
but this time it's clean and I always use bleach.
Except the time
two got washed with an orange rug.
They're mellon now- kind of.
But at least they match.
At least I'll never mix them up.
Some have grey toes,
so that's easy enough.
Some, a single red stripe-
but they're all essentially white.
With most it's just a matter of texture.
One's stretched beyond recognition (that's you).
One's small and stubborn (that's me).
I folded them together.
I laid them in the drawer-
but I didn't close it.
-KEA
4/22/04