The Seamstress

We used to make potions
her and I
The tub would swell with bubbles
Emptied the shampoo bottles
and our cauldron overflowed
Now she mixes dirt with water
in a little plastic cap
and then sews it into blood embroidery
Sallow lace, scabbing eyelets
I ask if it hurts
If I could follow pains gradient
to back before she became a seamstress
and we were two little witches
stirring pink magic in our tub
she makes one more eyelet in her hand
it is a gaping mouth that speaks in her place
It tells me that one day all I will have
are the threads of who she was