She walks to the other side of the room,
moves a basket of clothing left yet to fold by her side.
Gently she reaches in, grabbing articles,
slowly, one by one.
Delicately she folds every item of love,
lost in thought of how small each is.
Knowing that no matter the size,
they are strong and tough when fitted to the one they match.
Carefully they are placed away,
as to not disrupt the balance put in order.
Wondering, does she even know.
Can she even know.
The pleasure that comes with caring
about those tiny details that help
her to feel good in her own space.
The warming grin that follows
each tender touch of her clothing.
I know this is a joy I will gladly partake in
for years, and years, and years to come.
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