The thin fabric shifts gently as he runs his fingers over the folds
As he pulls it onto his body Up over his head
it grows warm from
his internal workings
secure within soft embrace
Supple barrier fighting existence of other
Of sun and storm, of labour and loss
He buries his face
filling his senses with scent not quite his own.
Entwined, unmoving under scarlet swathe
fabric swells with each intake of breath,
Falling slowly across immovable contours.
He murmurs sorrows deep into the fibre,
Keeps them safe between warp and weft.
The blanket sighs soothingly, contentedly
As he reflexively pulls her closer
Further away from arctic climes