the days are like clothes tumbled and tangled, whipped through the dryer spin

Damp, yet dry; a mangled mess of yang and yin

The leg of of jean inside out; entwined around a pillow cover

In this cold, warm and ready like the hug of a fond lover

What will you make of those single socks hovering in the end?

Those who wander are not lost, let’s pretend


Written by Diligent Candy

Amsterdam-based blogger, diversity facilitator, writer, academic, solar-powered INTJ, voracious reader, wears novelty socks, proud mom, and indulgent wife.

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