That tingeing sent of clean laundry eradicates my nostrils, like breathing in the smell of coffee at the break of dawn you stretch and curve your body in sensual ways and thus you realize today is the day you wake up and clean what has a pungent smell tied up neatly with its own draw string. You stagger impatiently and trudge down to this area of homely smells that are beaten forcefully by that of detergents and softeners. 

Today is once again the day of the week that I dread so fluently to only remind myself of worse times with worser measures. The day I choose so solemnly to dress clammy and baggy, not even caring how tangled my hair is or where my make-up has gone, I only plan to think of how long my clothes will take in the washer. 

'What's left to do?' I question myself as I pace around the Laundromat, soon to spot an open seat by the window that has just been cleaned by the rags clinched in the staff's hands. I seat myself comfortably and prop my feet upon a slab of wood attached to the table before me, I sigh dejectedly and develop an urge to fiddle with my Ipod and so I proceed. With music blasting in one ear and the other listening to the songs of the machines around her, her eyes catch on to something far more different and unexpected... you.

With a white shirt and shorts on you approach the front door of this semi-hollow zone, with an ipod in hand and a headphone occupying the other, you take slow strides up the small hill leading into this oceanic sea of scented soaps. Our eyes meet and you remove your ear piece, our hearts connect but I refuse your offer and slyly look away. With butterflies in throat I watch you from the side of my eye and feel my own heartbeat pace erratically. 

You stand there patiently and watch me from a far almost as if needing to say something, turning to leave I long to run after you and tell you my name but you leave and stand outside the door for a few moments more. As you walk away I watch you leave and anticipate your ventured return in the following week soon to come, hoping that some day soon, just someday we will contemplate our forward speech. Thus doing the laundry has become a sanctuary because I can see you come and watch you leave. 

Is this really all it will be for now? A Laundromat Rendezvous, we see each others faces and capture each others eyes but words are never spoken because we speak the same language.