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Wednesday, 25 March 2015

Blanket

So I was sitting and plucking your lint
And realised, you’re the one who has seen the real me
Even then wrapped me up in your embrace night after night;
You’ve experienced my hand go under my pants
And have been a mute spectator to come
And softened the rotten smell of my blood
Every month with your layered thickness;
You’ve been seldom sprinkled with tears and
Accusatory notes by the night
And milk by the morning, (owing to the unaccountable handling
Of my cereal bowl) also, gratitude spells.
You’ve saved me from the outside world (read: people)
As I bundled up in your arms, clothed or naked
Without moral policing.
Although I’ve unabashedly expressed my disdain
For your crimson velvet fabric and electric print
Which also acted as an insulator for the overheated laptop,
But sought your aid for hibernation.
You’ve seen me envision and dreamt
Along with me with polarising feelings;
And above all, I see you lying listlessly
For I don’t bother to fold you every day
For I know I’ll need you too soon
To pack away would be a waste of time.