Cui Yuwei 11#–Stitched Up

Cui Yuwei 11#–Stitched Up

Stitched Up 

I fold up his shirt in the morning

see a long narrow slit

in the collar, like a mouth wide open, ripped

to the corner, demonstrating how it’s been ravaged

I want to throw it away

but the rest of it is still good enough to wear

I may as well stitch it up

mum once said when a woman sewed a man’s clothes

she was in love

if I toss it, or get him a new one he won’t know

any difference

I put it down and pick it up, caress the fabric

decide finally to take out my sewing box

I sew my prayers in slowly, pulling the thread tight at each stitch

praying he’ll be a quiet drunk

praying he’ll fall into bed in his stupor

just a little smudged

like the country boy once he was

I’d smile if he murmured “mama” in his dream

I pray till the job is done

hang it up after a little ironing

a row of straight stitches is left

stiff as a dead centipede

silent as a winter cicada

《缝》

早上我叠衬衫时

发现他的衣领上有道细长的口子

像一张被撕裂的嘴

倾诉它长年如何被人蹂躏

我想扔掉它,但再看一眼发现

其它部分仍旧完好

缝起它也行

母亲说过,女人该为男人缝衣服

假如扔了它

再买件新的,他不会看出

任何差别

我用手搓着布料

还是拿出针线

小心地缝进每个祈求,每一针

都拉得很紧

我祈求他每次酒醉后安安静静

祈求他倒头就睡,脏一点也没关系

就像儿时的那个乡下男孩

如果他在梦里叫“妈妈”,我会微笑

缝完最后一针

我将它熨好,晾起

那一排细密的针脚

硬如死蝎

噤若寒蝉

If you enjoyed this article or post, please consider sharing on your social media, or subscribing to the RSS feed or our e-newsletter to have future articles delivered to your feed reader or email.
It's your turn! - Register and post your work
Follow us on LinkedIn