[16] "Breakup Letter to a Basket of Laundry"

Breakup Letter to a Basket of Laundry

by Deidre Price

I will not do you

or do anything to you

until you stop doing

that thing you do to me—

that callous, couchpotatoed stare you give,

your Jabba impression,

your fluff—

that blind but hungry-eyed glazed-over gaze

says, “What are you wearing?”

like it’s any of your business—

that towel-wagging, sock-shedding blame

           you cover sofa arms and table legs with,

           makeshift bodies until you find my own.

You cannot have me, laundry.

I’m done.