looking for a laundromat

i left my rags behind
in light of greater minds
on book covers
and tabletops,
telling me
to start anew.
but i’ve been hanging out my line
for far too long,
you’ve left me out to dry
for far too long.
the clips are breaking,
dusty with decay,
the noose is creeping
around the long-gone whites;
hanging sheets.

now my laundry’s dirty,
stained with the blood of envy
having waited,

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