i am the fitted sheet

i stare at the fitted sheet
balled
and bundled
upon itself, warm from the dryer.
there is no way
to properly fold it.
no way to make it fit
upon the shelf and lie
there, to behave like the others.
the towels,
the washcloths,
the flat sheets, all neat

and organized

in colored stacks.
the fitted sheet is a rebel.
it refuses to join in.
to conform.
i am
the fitted sheet.