Needle and thread, she sews the skin together,
simple domestic and womanly things, seals
the cut that manly, and honored, things had opened.
Her husband, almost like her beloved doll Amelia,
that was wounded and opened by love, stuffing
put back inside, and closed up, to receive more love.
Her husband, closed up, but not as simple as sewing shut.
Wounds linger, maybe gangrene, or permanent limp.
He’ll receive more love, but will not be the same.
She puts away her needle and thread, bandages him,
once more have gotten more life out of something torn.
Next time, will love and thread be enough?