the ghosts' seamstress ___________________________ there was a seamstress who tailored clothing for ghosts. i. she attends every funeral, measuring not bodies, but shadows—lengths of sorrow, widths of silence. the tape slips through her fingers like mist, but never misses a fold or crease in grief. no one sees her face, only the faint shimmer of her hands. ii. each stitch is a memory pulled taut—a lullaby sung by a mother, a whispered farewell, the last breath held too long. her needle weaves regrets and forgiveness, the fabric trembling with stories no living ear will hear. iii. her creations hang in forgotten closets, swaying gently on invisible hangers. they murmur apologies in silk and thread—soft promises stitched into the void, waiting for their wearers to return, to be wrapped once more in the cloth of their past.
