When I saw you that day,
Across the laundromat floor
You rescued my eyes
From the mundane decor
Of this quaint little room
That I call my abode
For the hours that I spend here,
Weighed down by the load
Of a life that outside of these laundromat doors
Is ungraced by such radiant beauty as yours
So it’s with trepidation that I ask… “How’s it going?”
It’s something I just couldn’t leave without knowing
“Not bad… who are you?”
You ask with a smile,
As you feed in your quarters
Adjusting the dials
And it’s then that we speak
And we speak for a while
Your intellect’s sharp; your intentions are pure,
And it’s at this moment that I become sure,
That if I let slip by this moment, this chance,
It’d be like leaving a bankroll inside of my pants…
And putting it through the wash.
Oh that I might be that shirt,
And that dryer your mind,
Therein to be turned over thousands of times
For what could await us?
Would we find ourselves washed away by the Tides?
Would we Shout at each other,
If we’re hurting inside?
Would we make blanket statements,
And get into fights,
About the morally black and the morally white?
…(I’ve a penchant for mixing the darks and the lights)
Well of course such things carry through thick and through thin
So let’s run, let’s Bounce,
Take our lives for a spin
We can press on through life,
And all its duress
We can press on through life
With a permanent press
But I can’t say a word,
For fear has beset me,
That you’d find me not hot or cold,
But lukewarm,
And reject me!
Or consent in a moment,
Only then to rescind,
And I’d collapse as if I were three sheets to the wind
See, I’m stuck in a cycle
Of saying goodbye
And leaving desire
All hung out to dry