I am jealous of your polo shirt.
It gloats
and reminds me that I cannot go to work with you,
or to the supermarket to buy that night’s dinner.
But after the pasta
when you and I are sharing the same space again,
I look at your polo shirt,
now glowering at me from the floor,
and smile.
Where Ideas go to be Self-Published and then die
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that was very sweet! loved it!
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