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.