Ode to Socks

Perforated terse cotton

purple, black and white.

Luxury wrapped around

dusty

ruptured 

feet.

Protection 

against the poison stabs

of mosquitos and 

other quiet mercenaries.

Every monsoon tries to deceive me

into freeing my toes of you.

The intoxication of humidity

comes at a price:

an offering to tiny winged gods. 

When- eventually-

my head clears

and I choose you-

You-

without malice-

used to my weaknesses-

hold together my bruised feet

ever so lightly to truly free me- 

so I can sleep,

and I dream,

and I start anew.

How do I forget how precious you are?

You are unlike any other breathing thing!

Even as the earth kisses you-

I leave you to fend for yourself.

But others do not forget.

When I let you out of my sight-

the gods steal you away from me.

The cupboards consume you

The washing dissolves you

into thin air-

punctuating

my belonging to you.

Even when your soul is cut in half 

you are patient.

You wait for a being beyond purity

with your abandoned step-sisters-

united in your purpose

of protecting dreams 

and the beginning of new days.