Thursday, September 3, 2015

Cross stitch

Threaded in cloth
Are crosses of skein
Pastel shades
This way and that
Soaked by them
Are drops of blood
Not too much
Just here and there
Caused by needle
Pushing through skin
The way his poison
Found its way in to her life
And then grew and grew
Turning her blood white
Until finally a bundle of poison
Reminding her of the man she loved
Cried and cried in the cradle
Her father should have made
And for the baby were sewn
Dresses with frills
And cross stitch rabbits
Suns with large eyes
And smiles the baby would never see
Sewn on her mother's face

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