rebmasters

Patch

You gave me your jeans to patch up some holes,

but they were too worn; I couldn\'t fix them.

Even the patch you gave me fell apart;

you had worn them to threads, you loved them so.

I kept a tiny patch of the denim;

it smelled of you and it\'d touched your skin.

I never told you, but I wore the jeans.

They were here, they filled in in your absence.

If only I could patch them up like new;

in your grace, you would let me stay in you.