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All my clothes are dirty
and there’s something
sentimental about wearing
last week right now–or maybe
it’s just the smell of you–
or is it the red wine blemish
on my sleeve?

I don’t want to forget
what is already so hard
to remember. Regardless,
I’m hesitant of centrifugal
forces and their ability
to cleanse me but still
I do my laundry as most would.