"Folding clothes, I think of folding you into my life." -Elisavietta Ritchie
The speaker is comparing the love of her life to laundry. Romantic, right? This metaphor sort of explains the entire poem. The speaker clearly has many memories with this man. I'm not exactly sure if he left or if he died, but I do know that the speaker misses him. As she physically folds clothes, she is thinking of this man and the impact he had on her life. This relates to the metaphor used at the end of the poem that says "a mountain of unsorted wash could not fill the empty side of the bed". No matter how much she reminisces, she will never have anything that could fill the void left by this person. That comparison of a mountain to a pile of clothes is also an overstatement, or hyperbole. I think the speaker is kind of blowing everything out of proportion; she might have finally gone a little insane. I didn't know someone could make so many comparisons between clothing and relationships.
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