mom’s sewing

threading the seams of my sweater,

mom carefully guides the needle,

piercing through the tears with precision.

patching it up, fixing all my loose ends.

she’s sighs disappointment, but also relief:

my blunders bettered by her 

i watch her tender hands tie the knot,

well-worked, completed full of love.

bedsheets

your pillow case has retained a memory,

a still dew drop dripping from the crevice of your eye.

the solemn sobs of an emptied heart in the bundles clasped in your palms,

bedsheets, a memento of which your worst nightmare lies beside you.

not gone, you’re only physically departed;

in your mind—buried inside. 

in the heaps of your comforters,

but alas, no comfort.