Materialized

I’m surrounded by fabrics; a mattress cover for my daughter’s crib, draped and drying, its elastic bunching the soft pink creases into theatre curtains, her sleep sack alongside, fully unzipped like a butterflied filet of chicken, fluffy white beds on each level of the cat tree, a silky thermal blanket nested on one, cotton diapers tightly packed and ready for our upcoming trip, baskets of clean, folded clothes to follow suit, a half-donut nursing pillow on the floor beside the throw pillows, beside the bed from where they’re thrown every night, these spa-grade sheets, the decorative, tasseled blanket at my feet, the quilted pillowcase propped behind my back, and the buttery sleep shorts against my skin.

There are more fabrics to speak of in this pile-up of a pre-trip transitional state, but it’s not messy or overwhelming, it adorns every corner of space and renders them cosy; lived-in, personal, in tousled relaxation.

I could reach out in any direction and wrap around me our very life; materialized.