Found the quarters for the laundry
Counted them by loads
We have enough for eight
You picked me up and counted me by mistakes
I weighed a ton but we carried it together after we exchanged numbers
I did the laundry
And week after week
Again and again until we had enough quarters for one last load
And I washed the bed sheets
Figured we could take all our ***** clothes off and lie in the clean there
Because it's nice to have a clean house
We have a clean house
When I can't sleep I scrub the tiles
Until they're bright like the rising sun reminding me
I should have been sleeping
It's okay though
You're asleep and can't tell you're alone
I ask myself while making coffee
If you know
I've got bags underneath my eyes
And the floor is cleaner and cleaner every passing night
And the smell of bleach resonates off the square white tiles
You continue to wake and just smile
Smile
Just smile
Look at me
And smile
Like the world is smooth
And runs on smiles
My insides mock fire
"Are you tired?"
"No I'm just wired,
drank too much coffee
I'm not tired."
You know
And I know you know
I guess you're happy with the clean floors and extra space in the bed
so you don't have to worry about rolling over at night or kicking me
I write good poems about laundry.
This is an older one.