I enjoy doing my wife’s laundry
whenever I do mine.
I like it when the washer
stops spinning so I can fling
her silky, warm, wet undies
into the dryer.

And when everything is dry…

(ever notice how likes attract likes
in the hot world of the dryer,
how socks lie together in paired 69’s
in the stopped tumbler
while cotton Haynes briefs
and silk lace panties
bond together,
sparking when I,
gently,
peel them apart?
No?
You haven’t?
Oh.
I have….)

Well,
anyway,
when everything is dry,
and dumped from the hamper
to our bed where I work,

I can smooth
and fold her silky,
things,
right along the seam,
just like she likes it
and then,
roll them carefully
with my,
sometimes scratchy fingers
into the shafts she prefers,
and then,
after I place them close and tight
in her drawers,
side by side
in cozy rows,

I am,

Really…

Ready..

to invite her,
gently,
to our bed,
to begin that dance,
over
and
around
and
over
and
around
and…

(Damn! I think I forgot
to add fabric softener!!!)