Pulled from the Drum

I held the wet clothes for twenty minutes.

They'd absorbed more than water—

some weight from the cycle, or maybe

just from existing too long in one place.

The jeans especially, heavy,

the way arms ache after holding

someone who doesn't want to be held.

My kitchen tile went dark where I dripped.

I couldn't move them efficiently,

the way you're supposed to move laundry.

These wanted to stay bunched,

wanted to stay cold and close to themselves.

I kept thinking about the message

I hadn't answered, three hours old.

How long does wet fabric take

to give up drying on its own?

How long before you have to force it?

The water spread across the floor

like it was looking for a way out.