The soft of your blankets
rubs wrong –
the scratch of the wool and blend
of rayon.
Rubs the trees
from their hold
in their earth. Breaks roots.
Breaks, rots
in the trash in the mold.
Hold the fabric to my face,
and it scratches
like bad associations of my
father's father.
Where he came from doesn't
matter as it breaks my skin and we
can't see the tears and
sores.
It's not refreshing!
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