One Lone Sock
by Gary Floyd
Laundry, isolated and cut off, tumbles inside an industrial-sized washing machine
Soapy clothes - socks, shirts, bras, and underwear are pressed up against the glass before they slide deeper into the wash drum.
What did you say before you took your clothes and books out of our apartment?
A misplaced sock, probably yours, passes by; pressed up against the glass before it slides down into the machine again
The soap scrubs it clean taking a little of your essence from me - even as it bleeds onto the rest of my clothes.
I feel a little melancholy doing laundry alone.
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