Its a blue blanket
Old and faded
Embroidery shedding
An heirloom
Or something.
Itd hang in the window
Tacked up for a curtain
Filtering in distorted blue light
Itd hang in the room
Behind the always locked door
In the room where for hours I became
Something more than a little girl,
A person, a future, a soul
I became an escape
A tool, a body, a secret
Lying still to stare at that blanket
I hate that blue
That smell
That light
Be careful with that blanket!
My mother sometimes says
My grandma embroidered it herself by hand!
If you cared about it so much
Why didnt you see all the years
It hung in that dirty window
In the room with the always locked door.
