Patchwork Love

The world made a quilt of you; patches sewn together as a pieced-together whole to keep me warm through the dead of winter. I burned you in a bonfire the next summer, and now you are a scratchy, hole-filled blanket I lay next to and hold close, your rough edges caressing my bones as I wrap you around my torso throughout the breezy night. Through all seasons, you provide patchwork love, each piece telling me a different reason why you love me, why I love you; one day I’ll be a patch, I’ll be a story, but not now. Now, you are the pieces of my desire, my affections like patchwork, scattered and with different meaning, yet all part of the same thing—my need for a quilt through the harsh nights and the long, empty days spent under the covers.