Last week I bought a blue sweater. A man was holding a plastic bag about to be torn in two. Three legs posed past a curtain. A metro transfer bent beneath the weight of two successions of outgoing mall patrons. I bought yarn that day.

I'm knitting a blue blanket.

I've had to begin knitting the blue blanket three times now. Today is my third try. I keep missing stiches and making holes. My stiches are too tight. The holes are large enough to poke a finger through.

Today I realized just how winter it was. In the winter you can't see a blue sky. In the winter the body draws a blue line.

It spreads like a disease.