The red dots peeped out,

I hurriedly covered.

“ Let it be”, he said

“ Wear it, I don’t mind!”

I unbuttoned

And hid it in my cupboard

Months went by

It got lost and buried in the pile. 

One day, when I pulled out the sock drawer

It popped out like a 

Postcard from a friend

I admired it 

But again I stopped 

I chose not to look at it

As I felt seen and talked behind my back. 

But my daughter giggled 

And touched the dots.

Her tiny fingers

Liked the rugged dots

Spread across front and back.