A dirty pile in the corner-
Socks worn twice, haphazard
twists of fabric stained with
last weeks lunch and this
morning's breakfast, discarded
denim ripped at the knee.
A part of me wants to pluck each
piece from the floor, cleanse
away your feculence from the past
week and tuck it all away neatly,
before you soil it again.
A part of me wants to forget
the slatternly tantrums, to
wish time would freeze this
moment and my sheets would
remain unsullied.
