Mending Clothes
I fix my husbands clothes,
darn his socks, repair the holes
where he splits his jeans,
in the same spot. Always.
He thinks this magical. That I can take
something broken and make it anew.
I cannot mend our relationship
the holes I’ve knit into our tapestry.
He loves me, but he sighs, and says
“The last two years have been hard”
when I can’t find the strength
to drag myself out of bed.