Two Poems

Aaron Magloire

Laundry Day


That long, sprawling month, we nearly lived

together, which is to say I never did

duplicate my key as friends told me I should,

but I folded your clothes at the same time as mine.

It was efficiency, not love, even if hindsight’s

unconcerned with semantics, even if

I spent too long trying to find a match

for all your standalone socks.

We were gentle with one another.

You looked beautiful in my blue sweater.

You looked beautiful asleep. Some days

I wonder if I was wrong, after all,

not letting that small tenderness

be enough.

Variegation

Joseph’s coat of many colors,

some translators say,

may in fact have been nothing

but a coat with long sleeves—

no collage of color

worth writing about. In other words,

forget what you have heard.

The idea is beautiful, but

most truths are wholly

plain, wholly disappointing.

Let me put it this way:

I believed I loved you

vibrantly. That was just the right word

up until it wasn’t.