Intimacy Extraordinary


Even when we argue

I still do our washing

My pants share a peg with his jeans.


Something softens inside

And I place his socks with 

My bra and my skirt with his shirt.


Unlikely partners touch 

As they dry off in the 

Sun even if we cannot yet. 


In a basket they go

And now no distinction

Between what is mine, what is his.


Like this they will exist

For a couple of days

’Til one of us finally gives 


In finds the time to sit, 

Sort them out one by one,

You can’t multi-task each piece is 


Methodically folded,

Returned back to it’s home

Clean once more and ready to wear.


Slightly older, more worn

In they cover our skin

Unnoticed ’til next time I wash


All our clothes and I see

The endearing beauty

In the simple, everyday us.