she drowns herself in bottomless midnights
unfolding
searching each crease
for something she might've missed----
misinterpreted or misunderstood
she irons the wrinkle
maybe he didn't mean it
were his eyes closed when he said it?
maybe his fingers were crossed
or was his coffee not right that morning?
she tries to sleep,
yet, she unfolds another.
she takes those folded from a time before
unfolding and packing them
into the heavy black bags under her eyes
***
This one is for the overthinkers, unfolding memories that have been folded a long time ago.
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YOU ARE READING
did i love you yesterday
Thơ caA collection of prose and poetry of love in between its bloom and wither