Saturday, May 19, 2012

blanket


It’d been very cold and so you pulled me out of the cupboard from under all the towels and the old sheets from the bed you used to have. You wrapped me tight around you, drawing me around your neck. You'd forgotten about my bright colours and the warmth of my fabric and how soft it was on one side, and yet so coarse on the other. I scratched you a little bit but I hugged you tighter and you regained some feeling in your little numb toes. I was very happy that you let me touch you again, that although you used me it was for our mutual benefit: for your comfort and for me, well I just like you. It worked for a while until the trees grew green and I made you sweat. I was heavy and oppressive and you kicked me off you most nights until one Sunday, while bathing in the sunlight on the line, you unclipped me, folded me and laid me to rest once again under all the towels and the old sheets from the bed you used to have.

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