motley patchworks of broken
cloth, unique in form and feel
stitched into a whole
new unfortunate existence
to share, because they care to
surrender, yourself
to nocturnal vulnerability
whole, wrap their arms
around your slumber
golden and you, comfortable
or comfortably numb
next morning comes,
for you to rouse
in contentment, douse
in careless, fling it aside
walk away and begin
your day as it lies a puddle
crumpled and disfigured
with your edges and smell
embossed into its heart
a relic of convenient
past, and easy future
for some of us
are quilts too.
Author Bio:
Sukanya Roy is a seventeen-year-old woman who is able to do almost anything fairly well, but does not consider herself an expert in one thing. Poetry serves as emotional and existential catharsis for her, although that is probably not how she would’ve described her first experience of writing. The couplets and tercets first started flowing naturally at age seven, in her native language of Bengali. Growing up, she always found solace in books and art and poetry. For her, they were the most productive ways to make sense of the world around. She continues to seek happiness from small things in life, which does not usually include people, except children.