hems and notions. a poem.

i used a colored pencil to mark the seam 

against the same heel that 14 years before 

pressed against the inside 

of my belly and made me giggle with the hope of

what he will be.

I used a hot iron to stiffen the creases 

and a needle to press through the fabric 

tacking up the hem

tugging at my heart.

what’s a mama to do with the bittersweet seams

on one side, the world

on the other, emptying arms

  

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