Doing Laundry

Another night, stretched out
in emptiness. My fingers play
with memories scattered across the cool pillow
where you rested.
Sheets washed with hope
of rinsing away the lingering scent of you
– of us –
sex
an intimate reminder of what was
no longer
clings to the fabric.

Siobhan
4/4/15
revised/reworked 6/12/15

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