September 1st

Piles and piles of dirty laundry speckling my room like landmines and the smell of all the socks you abandoned and the face you make when I make stupid jokes about it and how hard you try to make me smile when I am confused watching your life combining with mine like the colors being put in the same wash cycle as the whites I think it will be something terrible, something to clean up, but here you are snoring softly on my bed and it is something beautiful, you’re stretched like a stray cat that only stays long enough for a nap, and I can remember what it is like to miss you and I can remember all of the reasons why everything is always going to be okay because being around you is like the first day of the month.