I. A Primer on Quilting an Adulterous Scene
Weave the high tones of conversation
into a quilt, still threadbare
where the wind has taken your loose hair.
The silence is too much not to mention.
Just sew what is hard to say—
the tilted face of wild children, our
frozen spouses, lonely as dying stars
whose lights barely flicker after day.
Go inseam with a faith you’ve lost since youth
like a girl who runs through glass to follow a bird
and stops, noticing blood stains on the floor.
Unstitch the untrue—the hearts, the kissing booth—
and gather images you’ve naturally earned . . .
spilt wine on denim, a motel door.
II. Further Instructions on Quilting: A Lesson for the Visionary
When a callus blooms from an exploded blister
and basic stitches write themselves as learned,
then fall to folly. Your license is earned.
The world settles in original desire—a letter
sent home, not a poem stolen
at a high price from the faith of your husband.
The art will seem a cinch, natural as sand,
when you think of instinct as invention.
Then, form shouts like a sinner at revival
who allows reason to die and emotion rule
the trust that he’ll wake above water.
Excesses sink to the bed of the baptismal
lake. Dive to the watery bottom, your school
where experience hardens your shaky finger.