Making your bed

D.S. Maolalai

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 odors
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 bed linens?
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 backward
and sink.

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