This morning I caught
Sight of a wayward sock
Out of the corner of my eye
As it tried to toe its way
Between two washers
At the laundromat
Like you had said they do
When you came back from washing
With one sock short
The Black Hole of Socks, you said
Just like you told me that
The home remedy for gum sticking
On your clothes,
Was with an ice cube
Or not to use a metal scrub pad
On those kinds of pans
I smiled when I remembered when
We were
But you never gave me the remedy
For the Black Hole you punched
In my chest
Or how to remove the leftover pain/stain
From your treasonous trysts
On my untutored psyche
But my sock closet is complete
And I quit looking for my missing parts,
In my dark center...
Dear Heloise
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