Fragments of glass wedge in the
Furrows of the living room rug
Glittered under the wrinkled lampshade
And hallway flickering
She perched on the lopsided stool
Fixed on threading the fiber through the eye
Poised, steady, lithe hands tugged
The needle in and out of the holes
The button drew closer and closer
Flush against the material
She smoothed the blouse out on the bed
A row of uniform black circles gleamed
The recent addition was the oddity
She slipped her torn shirt off
Peering at the sullen reflection
Her hand instinctively clutched
The knob of the top left hand drawer
She squeezed a dollop of concealer
On her fingertip
Black and blue blended with orange
Her natural hue reappeared artificially
Satisfied with her cheekbone
She draped the mended blouse
Around her shoulders