the washer and the dryer.

in my mind,

i hear one say, “un-uh”

and the other one answer, “oh yeah,”

while sitting in a tiny kitchen,

in a familiar folding metal chair

waiting for the chili

that i prepared all day yesterday

to reheat, as no one including me ate it.

i am pondering the cornbread

reclining peacefully and untouched

in a simple, red dish made of crockery.

the cheddar is grated and in a bowl.

the sour cream and chopped onion

just waiting, like me.


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