Ah, laundry shelves.
White, pristine. Loaded now, with the weight of my detergent.
I didn't even know how much I needed you.
The dryer top, scummed with soap
is usable space when cleaned. Who knew?
Ah, shelving, shelving, lovingly installed.
You increase my love for my husband (thank you, Dyami),
you let me fold laundry mid-day,
you look clean and tidy.
Now: with my free time at night, with my pure whiteness,
I will watch TV, and not even fold towels.