pulling your linens
hard against the mattress. like flags at airports,
tight in high winds. piling
old sheets in the corner
and putting down new ones –
our tangled scent and memory
given way to smells of chemicals.
I don’t know if I like this;
replacing the comfort of odours
with something that comes from a bottle,
which smells the way that someone
has decided flowers smell,
but I know you do. and really,
who wants dirty bedlinens?
I’ll like this just as much
when we’re both asleep tonight.
I tuck it at the corners
and strip the comforter
for new covers.
you are in the kitchen
sorting the rest of the washing. it’s winter,
walls batting cold
like a horsetail with flies.
I feel that I could take your laundry
and pile it with my fingers.
push it down
like leaves in compost.
fall in it backwards
and sink.
Author Bio: DS Maolalai has been nominated eight times for Best of the Net and five times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, “Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden” (Encircle Press, 2016) and “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” (Turas Press, 2019)