I removed a few loose hairs
from the century-old blanket,
still intact besides several battle scars
and unexpected juice spills.
I wrapped it around my exposed thighs
and remembered nights of using it
as an impenetrable knight shield
or torturous whip for my sisters.
I held it tighter to my chest, and I can
still feel the calm voice of my grandmother
echo through its porous threads:
Listen, child, listen.
Yuxing Xia.