11/11/2025
“The Seamstress of Time”
She sits in silence,
draped in burgundy linen,
the off-shoulder folds like fading petals
of an autumn rose.
Behind her hums the Singer —
iron spine, golden letters
telling stories of hands long gone.
The wheel turns softly,
thread dancing through her fingers,
a rhythm older than her breath.
Light spills through dusty lace curtains,
painting her skin with whispers of amber.
She stitches memories into fabric,
each seam a secret,
each pull of the needle
a heartbeat caught between past and present.
Outside, the day grows pale —
but in this room, time lingers,
held still by a woman
in a burgundy dress,
and the faithful song
of her vintage machine.
M-a Klimecki
