There comes a day in the week
Often postponed to the next
Where the cloaks of laundry must be bathed
Not a particular day; No mark on the Calander
No little sticker of a washing machine, partially peeled off the corner of a date
The stickers they make for those expired wallpaper Calanders: the ones for
When you cosplay someone who has their life together.
Found in the back of a Walmart clearance section, next to the dog food
No, today I must face the ghastly beast of a heap
It feeds on ignorance and linen; button teeth growl, breath of must
Suppose you cannot conquer the dragon until you conquer the mountain beneath it
How should I approach this?
Don\'t want to start from the top, for those articles were just worn
It somehow feels unfair to the clothes underneath.
Same with stacking freshly washed plates on top of the ones not used
The quest laid before me:
A clean pair of shorts; summer months and somehow, I am lacking
How should I start?
Delicates: Jeans: Lights? Okay, okay
Just put something back in the bin.
Ended up settling on the delicates
Cloaked fabric strewn across the wooden floor
Softly selected and returned to the vessel from which they came
Turn towards the kitchen sink
Basket of clothing still in my hands
The kitchen is also a mess.
How should I continue?
Settle down, deep inhale: only slay one monster at a time