From c1eb96578e5a40d2b6eaee0ace394cff8daf197b Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001
From: Case Duckworth
Date: Mon, 2 Mar 2015 16:47:25 -0700
Subject: First complete compile
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+ Rough gloves | Autocento of the breakfast table
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Rough gloves
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I lost my hands & knit replacement ones from spiders’ threads, stronger than steel but soft as lambs’ wool. Catching as they do on nails & your collarbone, you don’t seem to like their rough warm presence on your cheek or thigh. I’ve asked you if you minded, you’ve said no (your face a table laid with burnt meat, bread so stale it could break a hand). Remember your senile mother’s face above that table? I’d say she got the meaning of that look. You’d rather not be touched by these rough gloves, the only way I have to knit a love against whatever winters we may enter like a silkworm in a spider’s blackened maw.