the wash

[amuse]

memories,
like laundry
come in all shapes and sizes;
your sock (a low crew)

fell out of the dryer tonight
everything stopped - the
washing machine,
the fan, my mind
it was exactly like when
your heart stopped

i will always remember
that afternoon.

i was riveted
touched it
gently, a little reverently
wondered would it be
overdone to cry in public
under these bright, harsh lights.

i am something of
a sentimental remnant,
a little dirty on the soul,
though i tried to bleach
it often, rather like
your sock remains

a little defensive
i remain
what of you? your sock's
other mate discovered
in someone else's dryer,
does she hold it up to
the light like me,
does she wonder that
you fit into this
low, long thing that
looks like it could slip
off of your foot at any
moment, like a well-
worn emotion?

does she massage your
feet lovingly
through that
slightly rank cloth as
deeply you as i?
does she wonder if
you will leave
as carelessly
as you slip
off your shoes.

i always did...

i wish i didn't
want to rest
my cheek
on your sock tonight.

[mono]

Wow - heart-wrenching, amuse. :eek:
Again, through a concrete example of laundry - something so simple - you have formed into somewhat of an associative-thinking, sentimental subject with a fond memory.

memories,
like laundry
come in all shapes and sizes;
your sock (a low crew)

fell out of the dryer tonight
everything stopped - the
washing machine,
the fan, my mind
it was exactly like when
your heart stopped
Nice visual descriptions. I love the idea how, by something so typical, of a sock falling out of the dryer, everything stopped, except, perhaps, your vision of the sock and the flood of memories returning.

i will always remember
that afternoon.
Nice line break. It prepares the reader for much afterwards. :thumbs_up

i was riveted
touched it
gently, a little reverently
wondered would it be
overdone to cry in public
under these bright, harsh lights.
This further informs the reader that you reside at a public laundromat - yikes, I can really see the pressure building of what could occur here.

i am something of
a sentimental remnant,
a little dirty on the soul,
though i tried to bleach
it often, rather like
your sock remains
The first two lines, especially, I love, having somewhat of a sardonic humor in reminiscing, then wrapping into something painful, bringing the concrete object into the present: "rather like your sock remains."

a little defensive
i remain
what of you? your sock's
other mate discovered
in someone else's dryer,
does she hold it up to
the light like me,
does she wonder that
you fit into this
low, long thing that
looks like it could slip
off of your foot at any
moment, like a well-
worn emotion?

does she massage your
feet lovingly
through that
slightly rank cloth as
deeply you as i?
does she wonder if
you will leave
as carelessly
as you slip
off your shoes.

i always did...
Yikes. These strophes contain a lot. Again, you warn the reader of what comes next with "a little defensive / i remain," then proceed into the most painful idea of something representing, or even hinting, at the end of a relationship: being replaced. Out of the whole poem, this group of stanzas speak the loudest that nearly rip the reader's heart open; here you have communicated yourself as most vulnerable, sentimental, and hurt, and a reader cannot help but emphasize.

i wish i didn't
want to rest
my cheek
on your sock tonight.
Beautiful ending to a beautifully written poem, as if what remains of the sweet memory you desire to treasure. The end reminds me much of the concluding stanza to "Departure" by Kingsley Amis:


Perhaps it is not too late to crane the eye
And find you, distant and small, but as you are;
Otherwise I will keep you honestly blurred,
Not a bland refraction of sweet mirrors.