oceans of patchwork. my hands are always in it. my clothes covered in thread. the fabrics smile at me and we work together. step by step. methodically but with excitement. i recognize patterns and i'm drawn to certain colors.
i long to see the squares pucker and fade and soften. but that takes time. years. so i move on, sewing until it's thick and soft and will cover a bed. until it will smooth over a sleeping child. until it will form around a young girl's dreams. or wrap tightly around a couples love. or keep company with a single sleeper. rise and fall and grow warm. smell like warm sleepy breath. the colors blending and fading with the years. making friends and simply tolerating others. there is life in the quilts. there is a pulse. it's what keeps me at it day after day after day.
The Pen Is Mightier
1 day ago