your hidden sew

Last night I fell asleep believing in you, and when fractured light danced through flaps and painted watercolored memories above my bed I woke up quietly. I dreamed you had sewed the most beautiful blanket I had ever seen with all our favorite colors and shapes. And you spread it out across the floor for some dreary expert and his approval, while you took no notice of me. But, when you were looking away from your blanket searching his magnificent criticism, I became entranced snuck my sliding, clutching hand across your threaded scapes, sighing at your stitches, and fell in love with you for the first time again. Warmer than worn corduroy, softer than warm coffee.