it’s 6:35

it’s seventy-three

the sun through the glass

makes mahogany shadows

the laundromat’s empty

except for a guy with a walker

and me

he stands by a dryer

we nod to each other

the red and white floor

has a diamond-shaped pattern

he pulls out some sheets

three pairs of panties

a cheerleader’s outfit

a corset

a teddy

he pairs up some socks

nice evening he says

he coughs

and it is

it's 6:46

seventy-three

and the sun through the glass

makes mahogany shadows.

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