Sewing

turning your hands over, you will find pieces
of past lovers stitched into the fabric of your palms
you will try to pull out the thread, but you will discover
that your skin has already grown a layer over the top

and the embroidery is profane in places
and you wish you had not sewn it in
but it is also shaped like clouds and lullabies
and certain curves are kindly familiar

let the patterns reside there
you cannot unravel the past like a tailor's mistake
and sewing is not always mending, but
at least your hands will be a map

and you will know where to place the stitches next
and you will become your own favorite garment