An ode to packing cubes

Oh packing cubes, you little square beauties,
Nestled together perfectly in the green abyss of my Osprey.
No waiting, just tessellating.

I see the other ones, the fumblers, the faffers,
Desperately trying to decipher between the clean and the dirty,
Lucky dipping into the chaos, clambering in the anarchy.

But not with you.

Zip, zip, fold, fold, oh the pleasures untold.

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