creases streak the mandarin squares cool crisp paper that reminds me of the way you fold your collars right out of the dryer the way you tuck loose strands behind my left ear when I'm not looking
"when will you stop folding origami, silly goose, the window sills are full of these little birds you make."
your inquiry about my little ritual makes me beam as I know in my heart
I will fold a crane with the glimmery glory of each sunrise, the light being as constant in my life as your love