Harmony
my clothes lie mixed in a pile
with your clothes
in a chair and
they look like they belong there, together
I put on your shirt and it smells like you
ginger and jazz
the sleeves are stretched in the shape of your arms
What would you think if you walked in now,
me with your shirt against my cheek
wondering if someday I'll have the right to do this?
-MWE
10 December 2000
