It appears unexpectedly
like a sock from behind the dryer
long after its mate
has been discarded or converted to rag.
You have looked for it
ever since it went missing
and knowing the way of socks
and their hiding places
the dryer was one of the first
places you looked for it.
Memories are much like socks
now and again running off
and hiding, leaving half thoughts
and untethered emotions, and there
are those worn so thin, holes appear.
It is horribly difficult
to darn a memory, and once done
they never again fit comfortably.
You need only look
in the back of your sock drawer
for all the single socks
pining for their mates,
but even when you do so
you know, deep within,
its mate will not reappear
and reconciliation will remain
only an unfulfilled desire.

First published in Periwinkle Review, Issue 1 (2020)