The Clothesmaker

by Ana Maria Caballero


My clothes come from places that are not immediately obvious:
A forty-day South American Christmas, an attempt at youth in College, a
place of blessing turned hard.

Embroidering is slow, so I mix patience with excess and comfort.
Embroidering can be silent or loud, and it is inside and out; but it remains the
single piece of cloth I choose.

At unexpected sounds, my thread sheers a right breast pocket to gently
cinch the waist. A set of green grapes spilled from the cup of an already full
Caravaggio.

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3 thoughts on “The Clothesmaker

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