Folding
They say that
it is an
art.
But which
one?
Forward, with
knuckles pressed
near my toes?
Wearily, back
bent over the
sofa, dividing
socks and dish
towels into
thirds?
Hands in
the air,
conceding an
unluckily
dealt
hand?
Making wings
out of
paper?
Inside,
within all
the kinds
of creases,
capitulation,
and
concealment,
a release,
a sigh,
some
relief.
Image: Kelly Sikkema of Unsplash
April 27, 2021
#NaPoWriMo2021 No. 27
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