Sewing by Scent & Sleep

Patrick Phillips
“Work-Clothes Quilt”
Elegy for a Broken Machine

no matter how brown
with his sweat, or stiff with his blisters,
or blooming his roses
of pine sap, and gear grease, and blood—


she stands by the bed
and breathes his last scent,

then wraps herself
in it and sleeps.

And so for day 3164

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