Thinking late thoughts early in the morning, I wrote this...

Quilts

When I was a child,
my mother sewed a quilt for me.
One side cotton sheet soft
covered in
pink and
orange squares.
Love’s matrix.
The other rough with
a million patches,
gaudy and gorgeous,
rough flannel. Reminders
of life’s ragged side.

When I escaped home
for college’s refuge,
I was gifted with
a comforter adorned
with black and white stripes.
Reminders of prison, personality,
right and wrong. The flip side
was jet black.

As a man, my first girl
and I would lay naked between the two.
Love’s smoothness above, prison bars below.
Laying together, we drew apart
like an old seam, til no
patches could cover the rupture.

Last night, I slept with love’s
rough side against my skin.
It’s a reminder.
1/4/04