2011-08-11T23:27:49-07:00August 11th, 2011|Relationships|

His black socks

She sorts his black
socks into a pile
on the bed
pairs them up
just like they do in the store
rolling the tops

He often says he can’t believe
she loves him that much
she would hunt
for each matching sock
that when he opens his
sock drawer
and there they are
perfect sets of woollen lumps
he is astounded
every time
at his good fortune.

It was inevitable
she would love him
but the ritual
of reuniting
his black socks
is more about her
than him.

In a perplexing world
it is soothing
to erase five minutes of the day
with her hands
inside the warm tubes of fabric
looking for matching patterns
a mild puzzle
she knows
she will solve.

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